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Chapter Forty One
Windhoek, Namibia.
By American standards, the German-run health facility was up to code. By African standards it was the Ritz Carlton. The floors were clean, walls freshly painted, it was well stocked and seemed organized. None of that alleviated the tension running through Max. They were still situated in fucking Africa, where he was relying on foreign medical staff he knew jack shit about to perform surgery on Abigail. Two hours had gone by and still no word. The nursing staff were giving Max a wide berth after he’d hounded them for the past hour.
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Siren in the Wind - book one of the MIT2 series Chapter Forty Two
Abby woke to two very different male snores. One loud and raspy and the other sounding like a squeaky puppy. Max lay stretched out on the chair, balancing a snoring Gabe like a football in his lap. The comical pair had her giggling, a sound she promptly regretted as a pain lanced through her chest.Max was by her side in a flash, tucking Gabe under his arm and stroking her hair. “Easy now, baby. Shallow breaths, you’ll be okay.”Abby breathed through the pain before grasping his strong hand in hers. Max laid a sleeping Gabe by her side.
Siren in the Wind - book one of the MIT2 series Chapter Forty Three
Johannesburg. Four weeks later. That damn dog wouldn’t be able to fight its way out of a paper packet, never mind protect his Lizzy. Johnny watched her mom’s little rat dog take a shit on the sidewalk, before his blonde beauty bent over with a poop bag to sweep up the steaming parcel. Johnny paused to take in the spectacular view that was Lizzy’s incredible ass. Perky butt cheeks shaped beautifully by faded skinny jeans. Her retro outfit included a Michael Jackson “Thriller” T-shirt, silver sneakers, fire-engine lipstick and a bandana holding back curls. Where was she taking the ankle biter? There were no parks nearby plus she carried a bright red handbag. Not the wisest choice on the streets of Jo’burg, yet she wandered down the street like she was strolling through Central Park. Granted, it was a suburban area, but it wasn’t safe. Lizzy dropped the bag of rat droppings into a neighbor’s garbage can, then wiped her hands with a wet wipe. Her p
Siren in the Wind - book one of the MIT2 series Epilogue
Utah.Four months later.Max pulled into the drive. It was good to be home. He’d sold a generous acreage of his land in Colorado and decided to purchase the luxury log cabin in the mountains near the Snowbasin Ski Resort in Salt Lake City. Utah was a safe place to raise kids where they could comfortably live off the grid. Close enough to the city yet tucked away in their own slice of paradise. Abby loved the snow, trying out snowboarding and then skiing. As spring weather set in, she’d taken Gabriel on a couple of hikes in the Wasatch Mountains. Max couldn’t wait to join in.The recent three-month deployment he’d just flown in from, meant that he’d spent little time with them since settling down to family life. Max thought back on their journey after leaving the clinic in Namibia all those months ago. After arriving in Djibouti, a bunch of suits met them on the tarmac. Max refused to be separated, s
Siren in the Wind - book one of the MIT2 series Book Two Preview: Stain on the Earth
Make sure to pick up “Stain on the Earth,” the next installment of the Mobile Intelligence Series. Find out what happens in Johnny and Lizzy’s story! Peshawar, Pakistan Lizette Steyn disengaged the slide, pulled up the door handle and swung the aircraft door outward. Frigid air swept in and she barely repressed a shiver. “Freezing fudge buckets,” she muttered before greeting the ground agent at the top of the stairs. The miserable structure that was Bacha Khan International Airport looked archaic—with all the developing nations Lizzy had visited in the past five months—that was saying a lot. Peshawar, the wild west town of Pakistan, felt as cold as a dead man’s nose. “Well isn’t that just grand,” Brianna muttered, stepping out of the wind. “All I bloody packed was a vest and a T-shirt.” Lizzy refrained from rolling her eyes. The other two Cabin Attendants had as much sense as two rolling hamsters. Brianna, a hardy Irish g
Siren in the Wind - book one of the MIT2 series Prologue
New York. Three Years Ago. Liberation was a few steps away. Today they’d finally be free. Sharon watched the shoppers spill out from jammed escalators. Long wait times fueled the oppressive atmosphere in the mall. Black Friday posters scattered throughout the pandemonium added to the frenzy. Arisha tugged at Sharon’s jacket, staring up with solemn eyes. “We need to find a seat, Mamma.” She ran a hand through her daughter’s thick black hair. Sharon despised her own wispy blonde hair and always kept it trimmed in a neat bob. Reaching down, she picked up their two small suitcases, nudging Arisha forward. “Then find us one.” The packed food court gave them few options. A man and woman situated nearest the terrace railing cleared their table and Arisha ran up and waited. The lady smiled. Her little girl captivated people, with her mother’s delicate features and her father’s Iranian ancestry. Sharon stepped up, and t
Siren in the Wind - book one of the MIT2 series Chapter One
Johannesburg. South Africa.Present day.Abby lowered herself into the water, welcoming the fluid embrace. Adjusting her goggles and tugging the back of her swimming cap down, she pushed off. God, she loved this, therapy for the soul. Soon she’d be warmed up enough to slide into an effortless rhythm and then the meditation would begin. The distant noises of the gym were drowned out by even breathing and the water sliding smoothly over her skin.Lap one. The tension rippling through Abby’s body craved release, and she pushed harder, cutting through the water with efficient strokes. Laps flew by as muscles burned. Quiet was how she liked it, and even though the rest of the lanes were empty, it was one of those days where it was impossible to unplug.Abby avoided peak times at the gym—early mornings or late evenings—especially during the week with screaming kids or swimmers jostling for la
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Johnny and Donnie left to trail Evans to her rendezvous with Muller. Once Abigail Evans stepped out, Max snapped up the opportunity to switch out a microphone in her bedroom that had fuzzy sound quality. Max slipped through Evans’s gate into the immaculate garden. Delicate paving ran along the neat flower beds. Rose bushes lined the wall. He’d watched her many times fussing around among her plants. The result was charming. Her dark porch made breaking in easier. It was late, and he was also glad she’d drawn the curtains before she left. Nothing like a nosy neighbor spotting him through the windows once he was inside. South Africa posed more challenges when it came to breaking and entering, so Donnie had acquired a copy of her keys from her bag in the gym locker. In Johannesburg, windows as an entry point were ruled out due to the hefty security bars crisscrossing them. Max clicked open the door mechanism before opening her sliding security gate. The smell of
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The following afternoon, Abby pulled into the strip mall and chose to park on the periphery of the frantic lot. Although there was a spring chill in the air, the late afternoon was pleasant. Due to the warmer weather, people spilled out of crowded cafés onto the pavements, La Coraggio was the busiest of the bunch. The Italian community loved the place, and the result was a boisterous, laid-back atmosphere with incredible cuisine. Honestly, she loved it too. Abby had an Italian grandmother, vague memories of a warm, loud lady enveloping her in happy hugs. Although her grandmother passed away when Abby was four, she felt a sharp pull towards her Italian roots. Abby was told growing up that she was the spitting image of Granny Lucy.Lucy had been married to Grandpa Noah for twenty-four years when she’d died suddenly of a heart attack. Abby’s father, Jimmy—their only child—turned in an extreme way to religion. A couple of years later, frustrated wit
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