“Who? The person who ordered the hit?”
“Not exactly. Not yet, anyway.”
“Then what are you tracking down?”
“Information.” Asher sighed and ran his hand through his hair.Fuck it all to hell.“I need proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“Proof that you and I have been set up. For years, every job we took, every assignment, was for the wrong team.”
Harry squinted at him. “Wrong team? What team? There are no teams—”
“The bad guys, Harry. We’ve been helping the bad guys.”