Walker (In the Company of Snipers Book 21) by Irish Winters

Author:Irish Winters [Winters, Irish]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Windy Days Press
Published: 2020-09-10T18:30:00+00:00

Persia had prepared a thick, creamy roasted chicken soup, topped off with toasted cinnamon croquets and sliced hard bread on the side. Once again, Walker sank his tired ass to the stool at the breakfast bar, dizzy and not certain he could keep anything down. But going to try.

Dressed in her black outfit again, she’d wrapped her damp hair into a thick braid, then wound it high on her head. Women seemed to work magic when it came to their hair. He couldn’t see a single pin or stick or one of those toothy clasp thingies in those shiny tendrils. Yet her hair stayed right where she’d put it. Only a few strands trailed down her neck. How’d she do that?

She unsnapped the metal clip on the dripping wet, turquoise bottle of water in her hands. “Drink,” she ordered after she’d filled his glass.

Tipping his head back, he emptied the glass. But when he brought his head back down, the world spun. Shit, not now. He refused to pass out.

Yet Persia was no dummy. “Why don’t you just get into bed? I’ll bring a tray with—”

“No.” He waved the notion off as if he were healthy. “I’m good. Let’s eat.”

Persia never sighed or huffed dramatically like she knew better than him, just took the stool at his left and lifted her spoon. “Alex stocks his safe houses with the best. You like?”

Walker nodded, focused more on proving he wasn’t a weakling. “It’s quite good,” he said after one taste. Then another. “Remind me who Alex is.”

“My boss. After college, I worked for the FBI, then crossed over to the Agency for a while. Problem is, when you’re federal, they think they own your soul. I couldn’t live like that, not after that last job in South America.”

“I know, but how the hell did a contractor get you into the ICC? Your boss is just a defense contractor, isn’t he?”

A curious smile tweaked the corners of Persia’s mouth. “Have you ever heard of Jed McCormack?”

“Sure. The billionaire behind most of the failsafe military gear and equipment currently out in the field. Met him in Iraq a while back. Sure wish he’d run for president. Seems like he’s the only real advocate us guys have.”

“Well, word in my office is that Alex saved his son Brady years ago. Jed never forgot.”

Walker took another spoonful, then dunked a slice of bread into his bowl. Not bad. Not bad at all. “I get McCormack. He’s wealthy and powerful, but your boss—”

“If you ask me, Alex Stewart is just as powerful as Jed. He worked a covert op for President Adams a couple years back, and he knows the Queen of England. Might even be able to help you with that false charge of terrorism hanging over your head.”

That reminder spoiled breakfast or whatever this meal was. Walker put his spoon on the counter. “You said you’ve read my trial transcript.”

“Uh huh,” she mumbled as she leaned over her bowl and angled a sopping slice of bread toward her mouth.

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