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yourselves,” Nancy said. “Hang on, I’m getting another call.” There was a brief pause, then she spoke again. “Time to go earn my paycheck.”
    â€œBye,” Charlie replied, then saw she’d already disconnected. Nancy supervised several patrol officers on the evening shift, so he knew she might be busy for a while. Tucking the phone into his shirt pocket, he reached under his seat for his weapon and extra magazine, pulled the key from the ignition, and climbed out of the Charger. The sky was clear, and despite the glow of the city, he could see several constellations, enough with which to navigate out on the open desert. Or he could just follow the road signs. This was urban New Mexico, not Tangi Valley.

 
    Chapter Six
    The phone woke Charlie up with a start and he groped for the receiver on the nightstand. “Yeah, what?” he mumbled, trying to suppress a yawn.
    â€œHey, brother, now that you’re awake, can you help me burglarize somebody’s house? I need to build some street cred if I’m going to get in tight with these people.”
    Charlie paused a moment, half asleep, wondering what the hell Al was talking about. Then the gray cells began to kick in. “You’re undercover, Al, I get that, but I’m no cop. If we get caught, even if that’s part of your plan, how would I stay out of jail?”
    â€œNot to worry, this is just a setup and it should be an easy-in, easy-out operation. It’s going to make the news, and I’ll be stealing something that’ll prove to the right people I did the deed,” Al said, excited despite the early hour.
    Charlie looked over at the clock on the nightstand—it was six fifteen in the morning and the sun wasn’t even up yet. He was a civilian now and didn’t need to put up with this crack-of-dawn crap anymore.
    â€œYou’re talking about today, right?”
    â€œYeah, yeah, this morning around nine thirty, after the neighborhood has gone to work. The early thief gets the jewelry, guns, and laptops,” Al replied. “People at home are settling in or doing laundry and the day shift of cops are working on a cup of coffee after their first call. Trust me, I know.”
    â€œLet me tell Gordon I’m coming in late, then we’ll meet—where?”
    â€œYour place? The target residence is only a few miles from there and I want to go over the details once or twice. That work for you?” Al asked.
    â€œYeah, okay, but don’t show up before seven thirty unless you’re bringing breakfast. You’re supplying the burglary tools, right?”
    â€œOf course, and a disguise or two. See you in a while,” Al said, ending the call.
    Charlie reached for his cell phone, but changed his mind. Might as well let Gordon sleep in ’til seven. Groaning, he stretched his long legs and rolled out of bed.
    *   *   *
    Charlie was used to kicking in doors of all shapes and sizes, but that was supposed to be part of his past. He and Gordon had spent many months together as a snatch-and-grab team, first in Iraq, then Afghanistan. They’d target and kidnap enemy combatants or suspected insurgents, then deliver them to intelligence units for interrogation. That usually involved infiltrating neighborhoods and conducting covert break-ins, ambushes, or whatever else was necessary to snatch informants, leaders, or anyone else who might have access to useful intel. They often accompanied units conducting sweeps in hope of capturing enemy leaders or their communications people, so they’d also had their share of firefights.
    Today, though, he was just going to help his cop brother steal something—hopefully. If it would help Al or someone else bring in Cordell Buck’s killer, it was worth it.
    Charlie pushed up his annoying fake glasses and fiddled with the itchy, heavily starched collar on the white uniform shirt Al had provided. Both the shirt