Jesse wished he had a terrain map. He wanted to sneak as close as he could to el Glotón’s compound, but still keep a hill between that and his landing location to deflect any possible noise. Instead he circled wide to survey the terrain out at the limits of the Black Hawk’s FLIR night-vision package.
He could use a map to what Hannah was thinking as well.
He’d like to compare it to his own, because he was thinking some seriously wild thoughts. He’d never been a one-cowgirl type. He didn’t play around when he was with one, but he never settled for long either.
Yet without even looking, he knew for a cold hard fact that Hannah’d had his back when Anton had tried to punch out a perfectly innocent Black Hawk console. He knew it because of the stony silence over the intercom. No protests, no
