Page 61 of Surge

“You sure this is the right place?” Zim joked. “We hardly saw it when we dropped off our stuff earlier this morning, left Caldwell and his tech.”

Guiding the SUV along the bustling nightlife of Core, Garrett angled into the private underground parking garage of the safe house.

“At least we know how those Pakistanis got the drop on us since Caldwell saw the manager’s Sachaai tattoo,” Zim said.

Garrett sneered. “Would’ve been nice to know before.” He clicked his tongue. “Not sure how he missed that.” He swung the SUV into a spot and parked. After gathering his gear from the back, he stalked into the house. He’d lost it with Caldwell once. He wouldn’t do it again, but . . . “Caldwell!” he shouted as he hit the living room painted in shades of gray.

Zim and Delaney froze in the entryway.

Caldwell came down the hall with his laptop. “Hey, Bear. What happened?—”

He stepped up to Caldwell, gestured into the kitchen. “We need to talk.”

Caldwell didn’t move, eyeing him, then the team.

Garrett bet the vein in his neck was visibly throbbing.Just like Dad’s.He needed to deal with his anger at Dad and God. But Caldwell did deserve a dressing-down for bad intel again. The team had barely gotten out of there.

His eyes pinned Caldwell like a bug in a science project. “There were more than nine passengers.”

Caldwell shrugged. “Intel said nine. Cargo company’s manifest too.”

Garrett took another step closer to Caldwell. “I don’t believe you.”

“That’s how many people came off the plane.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell us about the six terrorists in the cargo hold or that the manager was Sachaai.”

“What?” Caldwell frowned, his eyes whipping to Delaney and Zim, back to the boss. “Everyone okay?”

“We made it,” Garrett bit out. “How’d you miss that tattoo?”

Caldwell faltered, frowning. “I was working a lot of intel streaming in. I barely had time to set up and hack into the top-grade building security before your meeting. Guy wore long sleeves, and it was impossible to see until this one shot on the feed.” Pinching his mouth closed, Caldwell set his laptop on the smooth gray wood dining table. “Take a look.”

Garrett joined him on the black benches at the table, Zim next to him.

Caldwell pulled up a video with the Quest Cargo Corp logo, hit play. On the screen, the five-foot manager walked in, stepped up to the computer, stretched out his arms, reached for the keyboard. Caldwell hit pause, poked his finger at the tattoo peeking out from under the manager’s long sleeve. He thrust his finger at the time stamp.

Garrett expelled a long breath, rolled his shoulders. “Sorry.”

“You love to pin everything on me, don’t you, Bear?” Caldwell hissed.

“That’s because you’re so often to blame.” He looked down and saw his fists tight with white knuckles. No. He was not going to turn into his father. He forced open his hands. “We need to go through the inventory from the containers.”

“That’s what I was working on.” Caldwell grabbed his laptop, stomped over to the couch, and dove into the internet.

Garrett dropped next to him into the armchair with gray-and-black triangle fabric.

Zim came over and took the matching one, and Surge jumped up into the last chair like he was part of the meeting. Garrett chuckled. Couldn’t help it.

Delaney walked in from the kitchen and stopped in front of Surge. She pointed to the floor. "Excuse me, young man."

Surge jumped off, and she sat down. “How’s your wrist, Zim?”

He flexed his hand and rotated it. “Stiff, but the swelling’s gone down.”

“You could take ibuprofen or aspirin. Maybe an ice pack.” She gave a sheepish shrug. “That’s what they’ve done for some dogs at the ranch.”

“You saying I’m a dog?” Zim teased.

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