Falcon: The Quiet Professionals Book 3 by Ronie Kendig

wasn’t—and I’m not still. But in a very dark time in my life, He was there for me.”
    “I wouldn’t know about that. He’s never been there for me.”
    “Maybe you shut Him out, just like you do with everyone else you get mad at.”
    “This is stupid,” Sal spat out. “I just wanted to make sure you were alive.”
    Her smile was soft. “Thank you. I am.”
    She was like a tidal pool, sucking in everything around it. He wasn’t going down, not this time. Sal stalked out of the tent.
    Kabul, Afghanistan

27 March—1320 Hours
    Pain throbbed across her temple and down the back of her neck despite the three ibuprofen she’d taken climbing out of the car. Cassie crossed the open street in front of the thirteen-story building, the tallest in Kabul. A giant among the crumbling plaster sentries of the wounded city.
    She stepped into the lobby of Takkar One, the larger of the two towers owned by Takkar Corp., breathing in a long, deep breath of chemically cooled air. A treat in this part of the world. The upper levels overhung the lobby, suspended surreally. Incredible architecture! Smiling, she made her way to Nina’s, the first-floor restaurant where she’d agreed to meet Kiew. Wearing her uniform would be a screaming homing beacon for those wanting to harm Americans, so it was decided she’d wear slacks and a blouse.
    Brushing her hair forward, she accidentally grazed the knot Sal had given her—a concussion with it. She’d had one before and knew the markers. But she hadn’t wanted the fuss. Didn’t want to incite Sal. A dart of pain responded to her touch.
    “May I help you?” an attendant at a podium asked. Dressed in a smart little navy suit with a silk scarf draped around her face, the attendant smiled.
    “I have a reservation with—”
    “Miss Tang?”
    Cassie started. “Yes.”
    “She’s waiting for you.”
    “Oh.” A weird feeling slithered through Cassie, but she shoved aside her misgivings. Today would be a fun day. A time of remembering and laughing. Long ago, they decided she and Kiew were twins separated at birth.
    “This way,” the woman said, as she sauntered around the podium and started for a secluded section of the restaurant.
    Being a trained operative, Cassie did the perfunctory assessment of the setting. There were two visible exits—one at the front and one at the very back. Another entrance probably led to the kitchen or bathrooms and might provide another means of escape.
    Suits littered the more secluded area, their condescension and arrogance as thick as steel-cut oatmeal. Doubt and discomfort slithered down her spine as she weaved through the white-draped tables with their amber glowing candles. A spiced scent rose on a tendril of smoke from each.
    At the back, a cluster of well-placed ficus provided a natural barrier. Through the leaves, she caught sight of a brightly colored silk blouse. Kiew. Had to be.
    “Miss Tang, your guest.”
    Cassie rounded the last ficus, excitement thrumming through her in anticipation of seeing her friend for the first time in seven years. She threw her arms out when she saw the round, beautiful face. “Kiew!”
    But the woman before her sat stiff and unmoving. “Cassandra. So good to see you again.”
    Though she already laced an arm around Kiew’s neck for a hug, Cassie knew she’d made a mistake. Cassandra. Not Yong, the Chinese equivalent of a “bubbling.” But she swallowed her pride and tucked herself in the chair, noting the attendant still waiting. Kiew had always been reserved in front of strangers.
    “A drink?” Kiew asked her, eyebrow arched.
    “Water,” Cassie said. “Please.”
    With an upturned nose, the attendant left.
    Alone, Cassie grinned unabashedly. “This is awesome!”
    Kiew still kept her hands in her lap, her composure rigid as steel. “It was good of you to meet me on such short notice.”
    Now Cassie hesitated. Things were… off. Maybe the indifferent behavior was because of the years they’d spent