Page 38 of Surge

The heat hadn’t yet hit the nineties but sure was racing toward it. The city haze hadn’t started yet. She stood silently next to Garrett in the walled-in area, the smell of the city and concrete mildew assaulting her. She took a sip from her mug.

Too bad it wasn’t Choca Cantika, but coffee was coffee when you needed it. Especially when made by a handsome operator.

Garrett opened his mouth as if to say something, but Zim and Caldwell came jogging out into the long, narrow space.

“Hey, Boss,” Zim called. “Good news!”

Caldwell nodded. “Message came through—Andre sent us the details on the meetup. So it’s still on.”

Delaney felt her heart jam into her throat. Things were getting real. She’d vouched for Surge, and now she’d without a doubt have the chance to make good on that promise.

Garrett’s gaze hit hers, and she knew not to falter. She gave him a nod of assurance. Or maybe that was her subconscious trying to convince her things would be fine.

He returned his attention to the guys. “Hakim?”

“Intel reported the plane transporting him had engine trouble, so they diverted, delaying him. But the big guy is en route.”

Garrett rubbed his chin. “You already hacked into the street cams in the area?”

“Have been since we got here.” Caldwell’s phone pinged. He pulled it out of his pocket and poked at it for a moment. “This is huge,” he said, sliding a glance at Zim. “Intel suggests Tariq Sayyid will likely be in on the meetup.”

“Tariq?” Zim gaped at him. “He’s already here? The genius chemist who came up with Sachaai’s lipid? Man, wish I knew how he did that! He’s a stinking mad scientist. I mean, his use of science to kill and maim . . .”

“Yeah, not real sure why he’s here, though. The formula is already in play. No need to have such a high-value asset here.” Caldwell huffed. “Taking him out of the game would be doing everyone a favor.” His jaw clenched. “Stakes are ramping up.”

“When’s Hakim due?” Garrett asked.

“Unknown. Damocles is feeding me intel as fast as it’s coming in, but for now, we only have the time and place for the meetup with Rashid.”

Again, Garrett’s gaze found Delaney’s, and he studied her for a long moment.

“We’re ready,” Delaney said, her pulse hammering, trying not to be overzealous but oddly desperate for him to believe in her—them. “Whatever you need, we can do it.”

He looked to the others. “Okay. The meetup plan stays the same. Except, while I’m talking to Rashid to acquire the chems, Zim will try to make good with Tariq. Get some usable info on neutralizing it, if you can. Caldwell, get us a full background on this Tariq.” He eyed Delaney. “Thompson, you and this combat assault dog”—he stroked the head of the Mal leaning against his leg—“will wait in the alley, a block from the meetup outside that law building.”

Relief smeared a smile into her mood and face. “Understood.”

* * *

She really was a maverick, something he was coming to like about her.

But his heart skipped a beat. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Or Surge.

It was about Heath’s warning to protect them, right? Their status on his team, right?

He adjusted his ball cap. “On my signal, you two approach from the corner. We’ll pretend to be a couple meeting for a date in case the Sachaai guys return.”

Her eyes widened, but she nodded.

“We leave in half an hour.”

Zim swallowed back a grin. “I’ll bring the FTIR for this chem search.”

“Good,” Garrett said, and the team hurried into the safe house and got ready.

Fifty minutes later, Garrett was in the perfectly clean, brightly sunny Singaporean street with Zim, behind the circular law office skyscraper. At least it wasn’t Casablanca-foggy like last time.

He and Zim were ready—with Caldwell overwatching at the safe house. Delaney was in the alley he’d ordered her to stay in. He tapped the Sig in his tactical pants, keyed the comms. “Good to go, Rogue?”

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