McRyan, my name is …” Leah drove Mac back to his hotel, escorted by two other patrol cars. She came up to his room, and the two of them cleared it while two other patrol units carefully prowled through the parking lot. “I’m going to station someone outside,” Brock suggested. “You need to get some rest, and you can’t get it if you’re constantly watching the door.” Mac grimaced. “Leah, I really wish you wouldn’t. In fact, I need you to do me a favor that you’re really not going to like doing.” “What?” Mac explained. “You’re right, I don’t.” “But will you?” Brock assessed him quickly and then sighed. “You’re going whether I help you or not, correct?” “Yes.” Twenty minutes later, after a quick shower, a change of clothes, and a quick text to Riley, Mac was sliding out the back of the hotel, dressed head to toe in black, with his hood pulled over his head, jogging through a gap between two buildings to find Brock waiting for him in her unmarked cruiser on the street on the other side.
