Page 31 of Surge

Caldwell walked in from the Command room and plopped down on the couch. “Walker is used to bearing the burden of the team and mission success, so naturally he’s not happy. Luckily we had the buy already set up for tomorrow. At least he didn’t punch you. He did punch me when things went wrong on our Djibouti mission.”

With a half laugh, half sigh, she sat in the office chair. “Garrett punched you? What happened?”

He shrugged. “My intel sucked.”

“You had bad intel?”

His eyebrows gathered in a pained expression for a split second, but he focused on a random piece of soft purple plastic he was squeezing between his fingers.

Delaney started to repeat her question, but Zim walked in.

“Starving!” he announced.

She pointed at the plate on the coffee table. “I made turkey sandwiches.”

“Thanks.” He grabbed one and settled in the recliner. Surge jumped up to sit on his lap. The Malinois licked his chops. Zim took a huge bite, Surge leaning closer and closer with hope.

Delaney laughed. “Surge, let him eat. I’ve got food for you. Come here, boy.”

Surge jumped off and sat in front of her, still licking his chops. She scratched behind Surge’s ears. “Caldwell, is there a way to get footage from the search?”

“Sure. The law building even had security cams in the alley.” He stuffed chips into his mouth. “Get it to you in a minute.”

She nodded her thanks, piling her sandwich and some veggies on a plate. Surge followed her back to her room, eyeing the sandwich the whole way. She set the bowl on the side table, then headed to the food container stowed in the corner and filled the bowl. Goofy dog dug in as though she hadn’t fed him that morning like usual.

“Hey,” Caldwell said, rapping on the open door. “I sent you the files from the search. Should be in your inbox.”

“Perfect. Thanks.” She took a bite of her sandwich and grabbed her laptop. They’d secured it and set it up to work here with the secure satellite. Now . . . time to figure out what happened. She opened her email, and there was the video from Caldwell. She owed the man some pizza when they got back to the States.

Delaney plugged in her earphones and hit play. She watched the whole search until Garrett walked away from the team. She plumped up the pillows to lean against, then started the video back at the beginning, crunching on some carrot sticks as she watched.

First one, Surge was standing there, watching her for a cue, then he suddenly turned and stared at Garrett on the other entry to the alley. But when she called his name, he jumped up and followed her seek cue.

Wait . . . that . . . wasn’t a hit on Garrett.

Oh no . . .

She forwarded the video to the second hit. Surge was focused on Garrett, maybe because of the remnant from the vials he’d handled. Then she saw it—the moment she turned and looked at Garrett, Surge hit on him, ears pricked forward, staring at him.Following my cue . . .

It was the same at the third hit.

Why had she turned her head, looked at Garrett? Oh yeah, she’d thought she’d heard him say something. When she looked back, Surge went to the end of the long leash, practically knocked him to the ground.

Garrett had been right—shehaddone something wrong.

Inadvertent cues.

She had inadvertently given Surge cues on where to find the source. False leading. It was her fault. All because she’d been so worried about what Garrett thought, feeling his gaze tracking her every move, assessing her, judging her . . . finding her wanting.

Augh! For crying out loud, she was a professional. Not like she had some high school crush on a former SEAL. Even more than that, she cursed herself for pressing and urging Surge all through the search instead of trusting him to do what he did best.

Finished gobbling his dog food, Surge mouthed his KONG tug on the floor and dropped it at her feet, staring at the toy expectantly.

She picked it up and whispered, “Surge, we aren’t targeting Garrett. Only tube vials that smell of Sachaai lipids. Okay?”

He barked.

Delaney laughed, and the game of tug began.

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