–Damon–
I stayed in the car, watching through the tinted window as they executed those bastards who sold us out to the government. They seemed more terrified of them than they ever were of me. But as Grandpa Reagan always says—I need to get off the field and let my men do the dirty work.
"Caine, starting now, I want everyone in the field wearing masks. That includes you." I swiped through the tablet, checking out some sleek, custom designs.
"Like... a robber's mask?" Caine sighed. "Do I have to cover this pretty face?"
"Yeah." I patted his shoulder. "You'll do just fine. Let's leave Manhattan. I go wherever my wife goes." I grinned.
"What about me?"
"You do the field work. In a mask. But you are going with me. "
I signaled the driver, who gave a subtle nod and pulled away. We hit a few different locations, swapped cars somewhere discreet. I tried calling Sophia—she didn't answer.
"Call Deanne," I told Caine.
