Deep Sleep (Devin Gray #1)(74)

“My concern is with the direct-action side of future operations,” said Rich. “We don’t always have the luxury of separating combat from the surveillance.”

“Devin can hold his own in a gunfight,” said Marnie. “I saw that firsthand.”

“And I’m absolutely useless in any kind of fight,” said Berg. “But nobody is trying to sideline me.”

“That’s because you’ve always understood your role,” said Rich. “I’m worried about Devin getting in over his head if he starts swimming outside of his area of expertise.”

“What about me?” said Marnie. “I’m just a former Marine helicopter pilot.”

Rich shook his head. “The same goes for you. I can’t have two nonoperators in the middle of a covert raid. It puts my people at risk. You know how this works, Marnie. Imagine flying into a heavily contested landing zone while you’re taking fire from multiple directions—”

“I don’t need to imagine. I’ve been there,” said Marnie. “And we didn’t sideline new pilots. They flew the same missions as the rest of us.”

“Sure. But in a dual-control helicopter, an experienced pilot could take over at any time,” said Rich.

“How is this any different?” asked Berg. “In this case, the ratio of experienced operators to inexperienced is more like four to one.”

“It’s different,” said Rich.

Berg shrugged. “Some circumstances and missions may be different, requiring the sole use of your veteran operators, but tonight’s job doesn’t meet that threshold.”

“And when it does?” asked Rich, nodding at Marnie.

“Neither of us is suicidal, and we’re well aware of our limitations,” said Marnie. “I know I’m speaking for Devin when I say that he won’t be sidelined without a damn good reason. Same for me.”

“You go where Devin goes,” said Rich.

“Exactly,” said Marnie. “This is personal for him.”

“That’s a big part of what worries me—about both of you,” said Rich. “Too many attachments. Karl, you can’t tell me this doesn’t worry you, too.”

“It’s a potential liability,” said Berg. “I just don’t think that liability outweighs the gain. Yet. It’s something we need to keep a close eye on. I’m sure Marnie would agree—and be willing to help make sure we don’t have an unexpected problem at a critical time.”

“I can’t control Devin,” said Marnie.

“Can’t or won’t?” said Rich.

“A bit of both,” said Marnie. “But I’ll do what I can to make sure that neither of us overextends ourselves and jeopardizes any of the missions. That’s the best I can offer at this point.”

Rich barely changed his expression. “That works—for now.”





CHAPTER 37


Devin sat on the floor between the two motel room beds and watched the widescreen monitor on top of the dresser. Marnie sat on the bed to his right, next to Karl Berg, her hands balled tightly on her thighs. Rich stood next to Karl, arms crossed and a focused look on his face. Emily sat on the foot of the other bed next to Scott, her feet tapping a nervous rhythm against the carpet next to Devin’s leg.

The door to the room was cracked several inches, Jared visible outside, leaning forward on the second-floor walkway’s railing. He kept watch over the parking lot and the antenna array attached to the railing next to him. The array was directed northeast, in the direction of the golf course community about two and a half miles away. Everyone looked half-asleep except for Rich. The man had a remarkably boundless amount of energy for someone who had to be in his late fifties.

He somehow hadn’t skipped a beat after going without sleep for forty-eight hours, unless Devin had somehow missed him taking a catnap or two. Marnie hadn’t seen him sleep, either, and the two of them had agreed that either Devin or she be awake at all times to make sure Karl Berg and Rich didn’t alter the plan in some unacceptable or unthinkable way.

In fact, he had insisted on driving the entire overnight route from DC to Indianapolis, leaving Devin exhausted. While everyone else in the SUV had slipped into deep sleep, including Marnie, he spent most of the drive waking every few minutes in the back seat to check on Rich, who would occasionally glance over his shoulder and crack a joke about it. They were curious people, somehow reminding him of his former SSG colleagues in the FBI. Hardened by years of uncomfortable and stressful work—but wired for the job from the beginning.

He’d seen people come and go within the Special Surveillance Group. Some didn’t last more than a month or two. Others quit after a few years. Plenty were sent away. Devin never had a moment of doubt about the job. He may not have been very good at it in the beginning, but he loved it, each field operation reinforcing his attachment to the work. A few years into the job, and he was running with the big dogs. Never looking back. He wondered if people like Rich and the members of his team had evolved the same way. Unconventional people drawn to unconventional work.

Gupta swiveled in his chair to face the team. He was seated in front of two open laptops, one of which would serve as his primary flight-control monitor. A rather expensive-looking remote flight-control transmitter lay on the desk in front of the laptop. Graves sat next to him on the chair they had dragged in from the adjoining room, his laptop screen featuring a satellite map of the target area, which looked as though it was linked to the overall flight system. A small aircraft icon sat in the middle of the map, blinking.