Page 86 of Surge

Delaney drew him out of sight into the narrow space between the last LD3 stack and the door into the caboose. She signaled him into silence, then squatted behind him, letting him be the fury Hakim would meet if he came at them. Hands on the shoulders of her four-legged protector, his tense muscles rippling, she willed her own breathing to slow and quieten.

Hakim stopped and turned in the aisle they’d just vacated. He traced the area with his beam, then each of the six Sachaai containers before he pulled a radio from his belt.

“Everything looks good back here, Tariq,” Hakim said into his radio. “We’re underway, so once the engineer knows our exact arrival time, contact Alina. Her team will need to get busy with the vials at Cantika.”

Tariq was on the train too?God, now what?

“Are you sure?” crackled Tariq’s voice. “Rashid and I can handle the exchange. Don’t need her.”

Delaney’s stomach clenched. Rashid too? Good heavens! The three men were so dangerous Garrett had almost made her remain at the safe house. So dangerous that she was sitting here, hiding behind LD3s. Frozen.

What do I do, God?

Hakim snickered. “Alina has more passion for Pakistan leading the true Muslim world in her little toenail than the two of you have together in your whole bodies. She will get it done, and the widespread damage will let America know we do not need or want them! That’s why I put her in place there—maximum damage!”

The door between the two cars opened and shut.

Easing back against the vibrating hull of the train car, Delaney kept Surge close as she listened for any sign that Hakim was still in the box with her. Smooth strokes along Surge’s spine kept Delaney’s nerves from fraying any further . . . for the first five minutes. But her mind worried over the things she’d overheard and what she’d learned. Who was Alina? Hakim had said he had her in place—for maximum damage.

And the chemicals in the containers . . .

When Surge stretched forward, swiveling his head around the corner of the container stack, she realized she’d been sitting here for quite a while, ruminating. Since no shot or shout erupted when he’d eased out, she released him.

Surge rose to all fours, seemingly confident and calm instead of muscles tensed, ready to attack. That was good, right? She peered around the stack and, finding it empty, sagged against the wall of the freight car. Call Garrett!She yanked out the SAT phone and groaned . . . still no signal. And sweet mercy—the power bar was fading.

Tears welled, and she pressed her hands to her eyes. No tears now. Mission. She had to get word to Garrett, but the phone wasn’t working.What do I do?Her heart screamed for help, but then in whispered the still, small voice . . . reminded her to trust.

She’d just said that, hadn’t she? That she trusted God, that she trusted Garrett? And where was that trust and peace now that her SAT phone wasn’t working?

Still there. She drew in a deep breath, reaching for the inner quiet stillness. Let it guide her.

If the SAT phone wasn’t working because of interference with the train somehow, how could the tracker possibly work?

Nerves thrumming, she tightened her jaw.God . . .

Mentally, she stepped back, drew in a breath. She couldn’t do anything other than be here. She more-than-ever believed God had her exactly where she needed to be—butherlimitations didn’t limit God. Or Garrett.

He knew she’d gotten on the train. As a Navy SEAL operator, he could easily discover it was a bullet train. Probably already had. And he knew where they’d last been before boarding the train. So with Caldwell’s intelligence help, he could ascertain the destination, which she knew only because of the label.

But the coffee beans . . . She eyed the containers. Was this shipment important? Or did they already have more chemicals at the coffee bean farm? No . . . she doubted that simply because she recalled Zim saying this was enough to wipe out thousands. What worried her second-most, after the spread of this horrific chemical mixture, was when the train stopped. How would she get out of here without being seen? How would she follow them to this farm?

Okay. That seemed next to impossible. So . . . yeah. She needed Garrett here. Now. And shewantedhim here. Even if he got in her face about being a rogue and found her frustrating to no end. He was likely the best guy she knew . . . after Dad. And Surge.

But would he make it in time?

Augh! Stop stop stop.

“‘God is my refuge and strength. An ever-present help in time of trouble . . . ’”Psalm 46:1 infused her with more peace, staying the panic that threatened her.“I know you don’t have signal interference God, though sometimes it seems like it, but, uh, yeah—I’m in trouble here. Please, help.”

15

MEJAYAN, INDONESIA

“Anything?”Garrett demanded.

“Negative,” Caldwell bit out. “The Whoosh is nonstop to Surabaya. She’ll be fine. It is still moving and—if it wasn’t, I would’ve told you?—”

“Do you get that she’s not an operator, that she has no idea about tactics or hand-to-hand?” One lesson in Krav did not an MMA fighter make.

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