The Edge of Courage (Red Team) Read Online Free PDF Page A

razor-edged spurs. “I wasn’t talking about Kitano.”
    He gave her a cold stare. She didn’t fucking want to get into his head. It wasn’t a safe place for any of them. “Thanks for the tour. I’m going to talk to George’s crew.” He touched the brim of his hat and headed back to the construction site.
     
    Hours later, after meeting the guys working the construction site below, his gut told him George’s assessment of his men was accurate. None seemed to be hiding anything. No one had seen any strangers around the site or up at the ridge.
    Rocco sighed as he stepped into the steel toolshed. The building was an oversized workshop that had long ago been taken over as a storage area. Various farm equipment and household artifacts littered the space—mowers, tillers, attachments for the tractor, extra tires, tools, shovels, rakes, brooms, boxes, trunks, discarded furniture—all of it covered with a thick layer of dust, none of it in any order. The clutter and confusion of the space amplified the noise in his head, hitting him like a wall he couldn’t pass through.
    He looked behind him, back to the wide-open space of the ranch as a wave of impatience slammed into him. He was grateful for the job, for the place to crash. But holy hell, he didn’t want to be here, fixing a goddamned tractor. He needed to be back in Afghanistan searching for his son.

Chapter 4
    Alan Buchanan nervously crossed and uncrossed his legs. He’d been in this café for fifty-five minutes. Only five minutes to go. What a wasted day. He’d made the four-hour drive down to Denver only to now turn around and make the long drive home again. As usual. Over the past two years, he’d been summoned here at random intervals, several times a year. Until last month, he’d never once met with anyone.
    For their part, his associates had kept their word. They’d erased his past, given him a new identity—complete with a wife and a kid, set him up in a new town with the capital to start a business. He’d missed only one of these meetings. One, and yet the consequence had been severe: his wife had been murdered.
    He looked at his watch. One minute left. He got up to throw away his coffee cup, but immediately sat back down as Amir Hadad walked in and joined him.
    “Hello, Mr. Buchanan. How have you been?”
    Alan’s mouth went dry. Amir looked like any other affluent white-collar executive out for a coffee break that afternoon. A pinstripe suit. A neatly pressed white shirt. A perfectly knotted silk tie. His soft chin was well defined by an immaculately trimmed beard. His black hair was short. His dark eyes were alert. His friendly smile was contemptuous.
    “I’m here. As requested,” Alan answered, pleased that he didn’t stutter.
    Amir leaned back in his seat. “So you are. So you are.” He waved a hand toward a waitress and ordered a double espresso. “You are aware of all that we have done for you? Yes?”
    The memory of his wife’s car accident flashed through his mind. They said she’d been drinking. It was a lie. The woman had been a teetotaler. “Yes. Of course.”
    Amir’s coffee arrived. He did not touch it. “What is the progress on the construction site?”
    “As you requested, it has been problematic. The girl is having a hard time keeping workers. The construction is taking twice as long as it should because of all of the delays.”
    “Very good. Very good, indeed. It’s time that there should be a fatal accident, no? We need to speed things along.”
    “Kill someone? Who? How?”
    “It matters not to me. If you can manage to do it without being caught, I will relocate you again when this assignment is finished.”
    “You’re crazy,” Alan hissed. Sending a surreptitious look around the coffee shop, he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “That’s insane. I’m not going to kill someone.”
    “Will you not? Has our time together been so onerous? One day of service here or there? You knew there was a price when