Page 79 of Critical Doubt

"Let's go back to DC. I can call my friend in the FBI. Parisa can get us into a safe house. We need time to find some answers. And we need to stay alive while we do that."

His jaw turned hard as stone. "Who the hell is killing my men, Savannah?"

"Maybe whoever set up the ambush wasn't satisfied with only two of you dying. He wants to finish you all off."

"And he waited nine months to do it? Why now?"

"I don't know. We need to find out what happened during that ambush. Is there any way to get our hands on the reports?"

"I certainly don't have access. What about you?"

"Probably not. That would involve a lot of red tape, especially since I'm sure it's classified, and I have no evidence to tie what happened in Afghanistan to what is happening now. We need someone in the military."

"What about your dad? He's in DC. He has a lot of friends in high places. Maybe he could get us the reports."

"Involving my father is a terrible idea."

"Is that the daughter talking or the FBI agent?"

She gave him an annoyed look. "I don't want to answer that."

"Because you already know the answer. But it's fine. We'll figure out another way."

"Maybe my friend Parisa's fiancé could help. He's a CIA agent. Jared might be able to get his hands on the report. The CIA is pretty heavily involved in that part of the world."

"Good idea." He drew in a breath and let it out. "At least we have something to work on. But before we do any of that, we need to get a hold of Mason. We need to get him into a safe house, too."

"I agree. We'll keep calling him, and if we don't hear from him before we get back to DC, we'll go back to Spear or track him down at his house."

She took her gun out of her bag as they neared the marina. As Ryker drove into his slip, everything looked normal and as peaceful as when they'd left. But she couldn't trust that to last. Everyone knew where Ryker lived. They needed to get off the boat fast.

After tying the boat down, they stepped onto the dock. Ryker took the lead, gun in hand. She stayed close to his back, also ready to shoot if needed. Fortunately, there was no one lurking around the marina. It was dinnertime, and she could see a few people on boats having drinks, but most of the boats were dark.

"I'll drive," Ryker said, as they neared the rental car.

"Sounds good," she murmured, her nerves tightening. She had a bad feeling, but she saw no reason for it. There was no one else in the lot. No one sitting in a car.

She started toward the passenger side of the car as Ryker took out his keys.

"Wait," he said, suddenly putting up a hand.

She froze. "What?"

"Back away from the car."

She took a few steps away. He dropped to his knees and took out his phone, aiming the light at the underbelly of the vehicle. And then he scrambled upright, running toward her.

"Go," he yelled. "Run."

They were twenty feet away when the car exploded, and she was thrown to the ground for the second time that week. Ears ringing, she looked for Ryker. He was on his feet, moving toward her. In the fiery light behind him, she saw a figure running in their direction, a gun in his hand.

"Gun," she yelled.

Ryker dived behind another vehicle as the shot went off. She scrambled toward the same protection, pulling out her gun.

Another shot went off, hitting the window. The glass showered down on her head. She peered around and saw someone behind a car twenty feet away. She took her own shot. It bounced off the fender. As she ducked down, Ryker fired.

Then he looked at her and said, "Cover me."

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