Harrison hadn’t been back in his car for five minutes before he got a phone call from a friend in the Bureau. They’d known each other for a long time, although neither of them advertised their friendship. It was better no one knew because the types of information they passed back and forth were quite beneficial, and sometimes very lucrative, to their various interests -- many of which were not legal.The call was short, but not sweet.“Hey thought you’d want to know that a certain gang down there has a plant.”“I need to keep my guys out?”“Not that kind of gang,” was the reply. “Tankers.”“Shit.”“Yup.”“How long?”“A few months. She’s goin’ by the name of Betty.”“Is it something I can take care of?”“Only if you’re very careful,” replied the voice. “They’re looking into human trafficking, so this has attention from high up. Way high up.”“Got it. Thanks.”Harrison swore as he tossed the cell onto the passenger’s seat, then swore again. This was bad. Very bad.While Harrison himself wasn’t. Her hands rose; for a moment it was unclear if she was going to hit me or hug me, and unsure whether it was safe to do either. Finally, she placed her hands on the pillow, leaned forward, and kissed my forehead hard.“What were you doing in Gaza?” she said, her face over mine.I typed.You know. I can’t. Tell you. Hear attack on the news?She nodded.Sorry.“Don’t be.” She wiped her cheeks. “Joshua, I was so worried...”I squeezed her hand gently.I’m fine.“You’re not! Why weren’t you wearing something? A vest, a trauma plate –”Because I thought I was invulnerable, I wanted to say. Instead:Work I do. Trust is everything. Go in armoured. No trust.“Joshua, they shot you.”Don’t know. Who. “They” are. Yet.I squeezed her hand.Long day. Tired. You should go home. Rest.“I’m staying here.” She spoke if there was no question of any alternative.Yael.“I’m staying here.” Her eyes blazed.Okay. Okay.I squeezed her hand in surrender.“I’m going to arrange a bed to be brought in.” She stood up. “You sleep,.
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