![]() ![]() “I can’t sleep much past oh six hundred anyway.” “I’d take nights over waking up at oh six hundred any day.” Next week, they’d rotate onto night patrol.Īs if reading his mind, Jet said, “Next week is going to suck.” Usually, Jet was the one who was wide awake in the mornings and fighting fatigue by the evening, right around when Donovan got his second wind, but after twelve hours on duty, at the end of their last patrol before a two-day break, they were both tired. I’d say we’re about done.” Jet tapped the comm unit in his hand, marking off the last stop on their usual patrol route.ĭonovan stifled a yawn as he let his gaze wander back up and down the street. Infrared scan is clean, electronic scan is clean. Terrorists weren’t above recruiting kids. He was maybe ten years old, still too young to be marked. He was waiting there now, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his shirt, and watching them. ![]() ![]() ![]() Afterward, he waited at the bus stop for his older sister to pick him up. On Thursday afternoons, the boy ran drills up and down one end of the field in Scotts Bluff Center alongside his teammates in the youth football clinic. Donovan had seen him before: number 53 by his jersey, ginger-haired, stocky. ![]()
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