Page 43 of Surge

As she headed out, Garrett took the briefcase into the other room where Zim was photographing the Sachaai-labeled boxes, which Caldwell’s people were loading into a vehicle to take back to the safe house.

This was a significant stash of Sachaai chemicals. But it still grated. Why wasn’t there more security? He eyed the warehouse, wondering what they’d missed. Maybe he should do another search . . .

6

CORE, SINGAPORE

So much for that.Standing across from the park Garrett had green-lighted, Delaney shifted Surge’s lead from one hand to the other. A small traffic jam had built up behind a black-and-gold beer truck that had a spill, split-open cases and broken glass littering the street. No way could she take him through that.

Two Pakistanis in fluorescent brewery T-shirts moved to the back of the semi and pulled shovels out. They joined a couple of law enforcement officers, who were already scraping the asphalt to collect the muddle and throw the glass into a nearby dumpster. Drivers waited outside their vehicles, playing with phones.

Delaney and Surge walked up the street, passing the line of traffic, the silver semi stuck right behind the beer truck and the culprit truck itself. They crossed the street in front of the mess and headed to the park.

Surge sniffed every stick, rock, pole, and bench that existed before finally hiking a leg to take care of business. She spied a small area hemmed in by shrub and thought it a great place to let him chase his KONG. He seemed to read her body language as much as she read his, because he spun a circle around her, tail going a hundred miles an hour. He had his priorities.

She led him to the area, relieved to find a chain-link fence closed in on three sides. She dug into her hoodie pocket for the rope KONG and sent it sailing through the air.

Surge darted after it and snagged it off the ground. He trotted around, then slowed, the KONG dangling from his mouth, his attention locked on the men cleaning up the mess.

“Bring it, Surge,” she said, keeping her voice calm and steady, doing her best to keep emotion out of it and draw him back to her before he bolted away.

He sidestepped toward her, his eyes not leaving the men.

She took the KONG and bounced it between her hands, but his attention had locked on the men again. In full alert, he wasn’t deterred.

What was Surge seeing?

She knew better than to let him focus on that. “Let’s play, Surge,” she said, twirling the KONG.

Except the Mal wasn’t breaking focus. He’d been trained not to let any distraction divert him when he detected something. She clipped the lead to him before he bolted off to investigate for himself. Time to head back to the warehouse. Garrett had warned her not to go far and to be back in fifteen minutes. She headed back that route, but it unfortunately took them right past the accident again.

They passed the car behind the silver semi, and one of the two men stopped working to wipe his brow.

“Hurry up,” the other said in English with a heavy Pakistani Urdu accent. “Hakim’s waiting for us.”

Hakim!

Delaney’s heart charged into her throat. “Surge, with me,” she said softly and led him behind the car. She peeked around the car at the guy in the cream shirt and black jeans.

Oh no. That was Rashid—the bald guy with the trim beard who’d passed behind her after the meetup. Her gaze shifted to the guy with the wire-rimmed glasses, who fit Caldwell’s description of Tariq, the Sachaai chemist—red shirt, slicked-back hair. He frowned at Rashid but went to work with his shovel. Why on earth would these two be doing cleanup?

That didn’t matter—what did was that they were here.

She had to tell Garrett. She hustled Surge quietly down the street, staying behind cars in the traffic jam. Touched her comms piece. “Eagle One, this is Cerberus One.”

Nothing. She frowned and pressed it again—this time felt a small spark sizzle against her ear. She tugged it out and drew the coiled cord so she could see it. Wiped it. Tried it again, only this time, there was a distinct emptiness to the communication channel.

Of course! Augh!What was she going to do now?

The SAT phone. She snatched it out and went for the power button. But Garrett had ordered them to keep the phones powered off during the mission. Unless it was an emergency. Which this definitely was, right?

Scraping of the shovels fell silent, creating a gaping, ominous void in the noisy city.

Delaney spun around and eyed the crew—they were done, tossing shovels in the back.

What on earth? She caught a glimpse of the interior—silver containers with purple stylish S emblems, crammed full. Given those box labels, they were certainly full of chem vials like the boxes in the warehouse. Were the glass bottles they’d been cleaning up just cover? Either way, it was clear this was more boxes from the warehouse. The team hadn’t found all of them.

Rashid and Tariq closed the back doors with a clang. Dark eyes looked straight at her.

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