Page 95 of Surge

“These containers have the butterfly shoes with chem vials. Intel told us from the start they wanted to poison America’s food supply, and given the coffee farm labels on the containers, I guess?—”

“Coffee-drinking America.”

“Yeah. And I saw Hakim. He was talking to Tariq on his radio before he left this car.”

“Anyone else?” he asked, accessing the operation car.

“I . . . I don’t know. I didn’t see anyone else.”

As he stepped into the operation car, where the roar of the wind swallowed sound, he looked at his watch. His gut roiled. Sixteen mikes. Closer to Surabaya. “Chopper’s waiting—they’ll draw you up in a hoist.”

“Hoist me? Don’t you want me down here handling Surge?”

Rogue’s fearlessness made him smile. “There’s going to be more fighting, more shooting. More dead bodies.”

Her gaze drifted in the direction where Rashid had lain, and though she couldn’t see him, it was all over her face that she couldn’t do that again. “I . . . Okay . . .” She paled for a minute then pierced him with her eyes. “Surge can help you. He trusts you. We do.”

“Trust God.”

Light flickered, and clanging drew his attention topside. He saw boots toeing the edge. He grabbed Zim’s boot and guided him inside.

The scrawny guy dropped to the deck with a nervous laugh. “That was insane!” He pivoted, extending the harness. “Caldwell’s ready and waiting.”

Garrett turned to her. “Here. Step in.” He keyed his comms. “Package ready for exfil.” When she did, he tightened the straps, his knuckles grazing something in her jacket pocket. “What?—”

“That was Rashid’s,” she said, holding her elbow up and out as he adjusted the harness. “My other pocket has the butterfly shoe I stole out of the top LD3—and I took pics.”

“Show them to Caldwell.” He tugged on the harness to make sure it was tight, then opened the door.

Hand on his shoulder, she nodded, her smile wavering as their gazes connected.

If they weren’t in a life-and-death fight, he’d give her a longer, more meaningful kiss than the snatch-and-grab version he’d given in the container car.

“Okay.” Garrett snagged the carabiner end and with his free hand caught the harness hugging her hips, drawing her toward the opening. “Hold on tight,” he instructed over the wind and roar of the high-speed train. “When you lift out, you’re going to swing out and possibly spiral. Just don’t let go. Caldwell will bring you up.”

Blinking, she held his gaze, but the fear crouching at the corners of her eyes tugged at him.

“You can do this.”

“Didn’t know I’d have this much adventure when Heath told me I was coming,” she said in his ear with a grin.

“Never do.” He tugged again to confirm she was set. He moved into view and peered up, finding the belly of the bird holding steady as Caldwell stood in the open door. Garrett waved the readiness.

With a quick jerk, Delaney was lifted off her feet. She gave a nervous laugh.

Surge barked, hopping at her.

“Stay, boy,” she said, then looked up. Guided herself through the opening. Hair whipped free of her ponytail. She pitched forward. The harness snagged on an anchor.

A scream tore his heart from his chest. That and the sight of her anchored between a high-speed train and a helicopter struggling to keep pace.

“She’s stuck!” Zim shouted as he caught her feet.

Garrett hopped up onto the control console and fought the snag.

“Cut her loose! Cut her loose,” Caldwell barked. “Powerlines! We have to veer off.”

God, help me!

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