be honest with himself he accepted that his life was dull, shitty, and almost entirely devoid of hope. But if there was anything that the last two years had taught him, it was that he didn’t need the endless traveling and the artillery-shelled hotels, the vacant stares of traumatized children and the undiluted misery that war inflicted upon the innocent masses groveling for mercy beneath its wrath. The memories were a swollen abscess of pain festering deep within his chest that was slowly being drained by the passing of time. A daily diet of cigarettes, nihilism, and little else had taken its toll, but hell, he was getting somewhere, wasn’t he?
“I can’t help you, Doug.”
“Can’t help,” Jarvis echoed. “You working?”
“No.” Ethan didn’t meet his gaze.
“I wouldn’t be asking if this wasn’t important, Ethan.”
“Israel has excellent security forces.”
“Israel has put a cap on this,” Jarvis explained patiently, “to avoid upsetting the peace process. There’s a total media ban in force too.”
“There’s nothing that I can do out there that they can’t.”
“Except look. You’re good at this, Ethan; you always were. You found those people in Bogotá, didn’t you, and Somalia? You’ve got history in Gaza, friends who can help.” As Ethan continued to stare out of the window in silence, Jarvis changed his tone. “But if you’d rather just sit here and let yourself go to hell, then that’s fine by me.”
Ethan kept his tone neutral. “My life’s good as it is.”
“What life?”
A stab of pain pierced Ethan’s chest. “The one that doesn’t involve me risking my life or anyone else’s. I don’t want to go back out there.”
“So what do you want, Ethan?”
Ethan opened his mouth to speak but found no words. His rage withered and he wondered why he had shown it in the first place. Two years with nobody to vent it on.
Jarvis jabbed a finger in his direction.
“You’re sitting here with your thumb up your ass waiting for your life to begin again. I’m giving you some direction, something to move toward before you self-destruct. Christ, it took some effort for the agency to even consider hiring you.”
“I can’t,” Ethan said repentantly. He sought desperately for something to say, and was disappointed with what finally came out. “I still don’t sleep much.”
“You think you’ll sleep better if you just keep running away from what happened?” Ethan shot him a hurt look but Jarvis continued without mercy. “You’re not that kind of man, Ethan, and you know it.”
“So I should spend some time trying to avoid being shot in Gaza instead?”
“Sure, or you can sit here on your ass feeling sorry for yourself. Your call.”
A laugh blurted unbidden from Ethan’s mouth. Jarvis stood, his hands at his sides.
“There’s nobody else I can think of who can help, Ethan. I wouldn’t be coming here asking for this after what happened to you, unless I was out of options.”
Ethan felt as though he was slamming a door in Doug’s face.
“I’m the last person you should be asking.” He looked up, suddenly curious. “What’s your stake in this anyway?”
Jarvis’s features creased as he spoke.
“The missing scientist, Lucy Morgan, is my granddaughter.”
You should have said something sooner.”
Ethan reveled in the breeze funneling in through the open window of the Ford Taurus as Jarvis drove them out onto South Lake Shore Drive, heading north toward the city skyline and the Willis Tower.
“The Defense Agency’s being discreet about what is really a civilian matter. They wouldn’t front your bail until I’d had you checked out.”
Ethan doubted the agency had been impressed by what they’d heard. He sighed and shrugged inwardly. Nothing matters so don’t get involved. Since he’d lost everything it had been easy to just ignore the world around him. What was the point in worrying? What was the point in anything? If you’ve got nothing, you’ve got nothing. Why would he want to fly halfway around the globe searching for some damned fool scientist?
Ethan looked at his reflection in the car’s side-view mirror. Narrow irises floated in discs of sun-flecked gray beneath a thick mop of light-brown hair. His skin seemed more heavily lined than his years deserved, creased by both time and neglect, and the cut on his cheek was forming a line of purple bruising. You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re not ready. Go and see what Doug’s associates have to say, advise them as best you can, then walk away. Just walk away.
“You okay?” Jarvis asked.
“Where are we going?”
“The Chicago Field Museum of Natural History.”
Ethan gave Jarvis a curious