Chapter 13
Waiting.
Just waiting.
His government, the US government, had taught him well. They’d trained him, steeped him, in the power of waiting.
It wasn’t the waiting that was hard, it was the patience. It gnawed at him like the wolf who’d almost taken him out on the Mirny, Siberia, mission. It had been a silent battle to the death less than fifty meters from a fully armed Russian patrol. But they’d trained him well, and he’d returned with proof of the deadly poisons that the FSB created in that closed city, and a permanent limp.
They’d taught him waiting again when he’d gone from loyal subject to lab rat. When they’d burned his gift out of him, scraped it clean with chemicals meant to enhance it, reproduce it. And when it was gone, and they’d discarded him into a deep and dark cel
