Asher shrugged. “Thirty-three.”More or less.
“We’re not old.”
“That’s retirement age in our industry.”
“Is that why they’re retiring us?”
“Probably.” Asher sighed. “Been in the game too long. Know too much, seen too much. We don’t move like we used to. We become a liability.”
“That’s bullshit. Instinct and experience will win over youth and reckless bravado every time.”
“You’ll get no argument from me.”
Harry studied Asher for a long moment. “So in your grand plan that I’m not privy to, or that you refuse to tell me about, how long are we staying here for?”
“Until your ankle heals.”
“My ankle’s fine.”
“Then take your boot off.”
Harry scowled at him. “Compression keeps the swelling down.”
Asher understood there was no point in arguing with someone so stubborn. “We’ll be here for a week,” he admitted. “Unless circumstances change.”
“A week?”
“A week to keep our heads down.”
“Shouldn’t we keep moving? Get as far from Madrid as possible?”
Asher made a face, not sure how much to divulge. He knew he’d have to tell him everything at some point. He was actually a bit surprised that Harry was going along with him not knowing anything. But that wouldn’t last much longer, and he knew it, so with a sigh, he relented. “I’m waiting for more information. Then I’ll know which direction we need to go.”
Harry’s steely eyes lasered in on him. “Information on what?”
“On who ordered the hit on us.”
Harry’s brow furrowed, and he blinked. “From who? Who are you getting the intel from?”
“My informant.”
“Your informant? Which agency do they work for? Which government?”
“No agency. No government.”
“Who pays them?”
“The highest bidder.”
Harry blinked, his confusion apparent before something clicked. “Like you.”
“Yes, like me. No agency, no country.” Asher glared at him. His past really was no secret. Those who knew, knew. And Harry had to know. They’d circled around each other for almost a decade, and knowing your opponent’s past meant knowing their weak spot.
The truth was, there wasn’t much to know about Asher’s history. There was no weak spot because there was no past. No country, no family, no nationality. No home.
“You said direction,” Harry continued. “You said when you hear from your informant, you’ll know which direction to go. You want to track someone down?”
“Yes.”