CHAPTER 11
NICK YAWNED, NOT bothering to cover his mouth with his hand. Raising his arm would have taken energy he didn’t possess.
When a buddy in the CIA offered him a ride back on the C-130 military transport plane on Saturday afternoon, it had seemed like a great idea because it meant getting the hell out of Somalia a day earlier than planned. What he hadn’t bargained on was having to fly the f*****g thing himself. But then again, it wasn’t as if his former colleague had known the pilot was going to get sick and spew over the cockpit, was it?
Still, having to forego his nap and sit in a small space stinking of vomit for the last six hours wasn’t something that left Nick in the best of moods, and by the time he landed at the military airbase near Washington, DC, all he wanted to do wa
