Page 34 of Surge

5

CORE, SINGAPORE

Never letit be said he hadn’t given her a fair shake. But this was it—her last chance to prove to him she could handle the dog and get the job done. They didn’t have time for games. He stepped back, eyeing the long room that served as the weight room. It had a walled-in garden with trellis, which gave the combat assault dog a place to take care of business. As close to a yard as one got in a city dominated by high-rises.

Arms folded, Garrett stood surveying the space.

“What happens if he doesn’t find them?” Zim asked, returning to his side.

Garrett gave a cockeyed nod. “Ship her back and focus on what we have.” He dragged a hand over his mouth. “Can’t afford another fail like we had earlier.”

“She said it wasn’t a fail but inadver?—”

“Did we track down the production site?”

Zim sighed. “No.”

“Fail.” He jutted his jaw. “Bring her in.”

As Zim slipped out to find Thompson and Surge, Garrett thought about sending her back. Hanged if he knew why, but it went crossways in his gut. Telling Daniels the dog and handler had failed wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. Somehow, Garrett would make the mission happen, find those lipids before they made it to American soil, but Thompson . . . her determination to get it done, and do it right, said something. Impressed him. He’d seen Surge find the tin in the training yard, even when the girl hadn’t known about it. Remembered Daniels’s words about Thompson having a way with the dog nobody else did.

She’d failed to read the dog . . .because she was reading me.

What did that mean? Making sure the guys did the job was part of his responsibility as master chief. He took that responsibility seriously, to make sure things went well, the guys came home, and the mission accomplished its objective. And this one threatened home turf and lives. So yeah . . . maybe he had been breathing down her neck a lot.

When he heard the door open, he shifted back, retrieved his stainless steel tumbler of black coffee and waited. The dog team entered, Thompson’s gaze flying to his. Surge had his black KONG snagged between his teeth. He spotted Garrett—and the KONG popped out. Surge lunged after it, and Thompson released him to retrieve it.

Not exactly a strong first impression.

Neck breathing, remember?

Thompson slid him a nervous glance.

Surge returned with his KONG and dropped it at Garrett’s boots.

Thompson scoffed. “Traitor, again, doggo.”

Garrett picked it up and tossed the KONG, wondering if the dog would catch the scent on his own.

Lightning fast, Surge secured the toy and returned, this time depositing it in front of Thompson.

“At least you haven’t forgotten me just because Walker’s here.” She smoothed her caramel-brown hair behind her ear. “So, what’s up?”

He adjusted his ballcap and narrowed his eyes at her. “You know no inadvertent cues, right?”

Her chagrin worked against the smile that flashed. “Like I said, I know the mistake and won’t repeat it.”

“Time to prove it.” Garrett chucked Surge’s snout. “We’ve hidden the vials in this weight training room. I want him to find them.”

She swallowed and gave a hesitant nod.

He edged forward. “Look. We both know he can do it—I saw you two at the ranch. He found the chem scent tin. But what I need proof of is that in a strange environment, under stress and pressure, time constraints, amped energy, the two of you can do what needs to be done. We can’t afford another fail—and that’s what it was because we did not find where they’re operating. So.” Maybe a bit too heavy, but she needed to understand the risks. “American lives depend on you two gelling and getting this done. You said he’s ready . . .”

She leaned in, pushed up her sleeves. “No doubt whatsoever.”

Panting steadily, Surge looked up at her expectantly.

“Then prove it.” He handed her the baggie with the remaining vials.

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