HE HUNG UP AND BREATHED a sigh of relief. At least, she knows not to push the boundary, he thought.
G looked for the number of the one good man who he knew was in town and available. Bryce ‘Wolf’ Cameron. Australian SAS. Six feet tall, one hundred ninety-eight pounds of muscle and a black operative. He sped dialled Bryce’s number, and the elite soldier answered at once.
‘Hey, mate, how are ya?’
‘Good, buddy. Sorry to interrupt your holiday ... I need help.’
‘That’s good, it’s a beautiful city, mate, but crikey I’m bored to death,’ he said with a laugh. ‘What can I do for ya?’
G briefed him but was interrupted by the incessant beeping of his other phone. His business phone. He checked the screen; it was the Crime Lab.
‘Hold on, Bryce. I need to get this.’
It was Cora.
‘Officer Gomez
