“Max sat back from the window and watched as people hurried to work or the market. Children came out to play in the dusty square. When Jules’s cell phone rang, Grady Morant—who wanted to be called Jones—got to his feet. Like most operators Max had known through the years, Jones could go from asleep to completely alert in a heartbeat. Of course, Max never had to worry about that. His solution was simply never to sleep. At least he hadn’t slept since Gina had left. “We got another e-mail,” Jules a...nnounced, phone to his ear. “It’s Yashi,” he told Max. “Joe Hirabayashi,” he told Jones. “Teammate back in D.C.” Back to Max. “I’ve had him watching that e-mail account, trying to trace . . . Yeah, Yash, go ahead. Wait, wait—you’re breaking up . . .” He turned, walking closer to the window. “That’s better. Go.” Max and Jones were left standing there, staring at each other. “You really should get some rest,” Jones said. “I heard you go out last night.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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