Blind Rage by Michael W. Sherer Page B

and spread it on her lap. Then carefully feeling the outline of the plate with both hands, she moved her fingers in until they touched the burrito. She grasped it in both hands and brought it to her mouth. Alice and Rosa were used to seeing her make a mess of her meals, but she suddenly felt self-conscious in front of the stranger at the table. She realized she was too hungry to care and took a big bite. As usual, Rosa’s cooking was amazing. She’d mixed scrambled eggs, chorizo, sautéed onion, fresh cilantro, diced jalapeño, queso blanco , and a touch of cumin and rolled them up in a warm, soft flour tortilla.
    “ Mmmf ,” she said with her mouth full. “Did you get something to eat, Oliver? You should try this. It’s delicious.”
    “Thanks, but Rosa already made me breakfast.”
    “Okay, Tess,” Alice interrupted, “it’s almost time to head for school. Finish your breakfast. You don’t want to be late. Oliver, I’ve taken the liberty of preparing directions for you, and there’s a GPS device in the car you’ll be driving in case you take a wrong turn. Here’s a class schedule with a map of the campus. Tess, I’ve got your bag ready with all the books and supplies your teachers say you need. Do you want to carry it, or shall I give it to Oliver?”
    “OMG, Alice, it’s the pink one, right? I think I better take it. I doubt it goes with whatever Oliver’s wearing.”
    “I suppose you have a point. Oliver, you may want to bring of bag of your own next time so you can help with a few of those books. After all, Tess won’t need them as much as you will.”
    “I don’t—” Oliver said.
    “Well, I certainly can’t read them,” Tess interrupted. “They’re so you can follow along with the work I’m doing, and make sure I understand my assignments. You know, we ‘dumb blondes’ have trouble with that sort of thing.”

C HAPTER 8
    One year earlier. . .
    “I’ll give you a team,” the general said.
    Travis forced his mind to pay attention, still shocked by the enormity of what Turnbull had suggested.
    “They’ll have to be off the books, of course,” the general continued, “but I’ll make sure they’re all former SF or SOG. We can’t let any of this be traced back.”
    “SOG, sir? Can we trust those guys?”
    The Special Operations Group was the CIA’s covert military operations arm. Almost all of its operatives were former Army Special Forces soldiers. But Travis was convinced the CIA played head games with its people. After meeting a few of the guys from SOG in Afghanistan, he understood why its agents were called “spooks.” They were like ghosts, but not just because they were invisible. They also were a little scary. Really intense, and not in a good way. It seemed they were in it only for the thrills, and had lost sight of the big picture—duty and country.
    “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure everyone on your team is properly vetted,” Turnbull said. “But it’s important we don’t take anyone currently active in the service. As of today, Travis, you’re officially out of the army. Early retirement, sabbatical—I don’t care what we call it, but if this is going to work, you can’t be one of us anymore.”
    “What about resources? I’ll need equipment as well as men.”
    “James has agreed to pay for security, so I imagine you’ll have an unlimited budget even though it’s coming out of his own pocket, not the company’s.”
    Travis grimaced. Knowing James, the budget might be unlimited, but it would come with all sorts of questions and maybe even a few strings attached. He sighed.
    “I understand the assignment, sir,” he said, “and even if I’m no longer in the army you know I’ll do whatever you order me to. But can I think about this idea of yours for a while before making a commitment?”
    Turnbull nodded. “Of course, Travis. But don’t take too long. We don’t know how imminent this threat is. We could be talking weeks, but possibly only