Page 2 of Lyon

“Yeah. I had to tackle River before he killed the guy who suggested that. So, River thinks he might still be there?”

“He was just eighteen, a kid. River says he’s the smartest person he knows. So maybe he’s alive. Who knows?”

“I know,” River said, walking to the back of the plane where we were sitting. His voice was firm, edged with certainty.

“Leo was always sharp, always aware. If he was left behind, he wouldn’t just sit around waiting to die.”

He’d gather as many Americans as he could and take them somewhere safe. I believe that’s exactly what happened,” River said, glancing at both of us.

I turned to River. “I want a truthful answer. Did the government send us over here?”

River met his gaze. “No. I sent us over here. Because I want every American in that hellhole home; their families already grieved for them, believing they were dead. Now, they hear there are hundreds still alive.

“Do you know how many people called The Golden Team yesterday? Five hundred and sixty people. All asking what weknew about the Americans left behind and if we were going to get them out.”

“So you lied to us and said the government sent us,” I said, laughing as he clapped River on the back. “You’re turning into me. I never thought I’d see the day when River Channing would be just like me. I’ve told you before—sometimes you have to say screw them and do it on your own.”

“I never said you were wrong about that,” River admitted. “Most of the time, I silently agreed with you. I’m saving Americans. That’s all I’m doing.”

“Where are we landing this plane?”

“Where we would if the government had sent us.”

“Did you tell them the government sent us?” Lyon asked.

“Yes, I did. And I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

I must have dozed off because when I woke up, my neck ached, and River and Raven were asleep. I stood and walked up to the cockpit, where Gage was piloting.

“Nap time. I’ll take over from here.”

“Thanks,” Gage muttered, yawning. “I could sleep for twenty-four hours.” He left the cockpit, leaving me alone with my thoughts as I flew us toward Afghanistan and the Americans.

2

Niki

I knewMax was one of the Americans still in Afghanistan. He would never die on me. He knew how brokenhearted I’d be. He’s my brother, and I love him more than anything. I will find him if it’s the last thing I do.

I paced back and forth, my heart pounding. I had to find someone who could show me where the Americans were. I have to rescue my brother. I know he’s alive.

I had taken two weeks off from my job as a special agent with the FBI—just enough time to track Max down and get him out.

Now, I stood in the middle of this scorching desert, scanning my surroundings. There were no Americans here—or if there were, they were in hiding. I had expected them to be moving fast, working to save the others trapped here. Reports said there were over six hundred Americans still left behind.

So where the hell were the rescuers?

I had already lied once, telling the locals I had been sent here on an official mission. But if I didn’t find someone soon, they would send me straight back to America.

I stepped outside. Damn, it was hot.

I was used to California’s warm but comfortable climate—not this unrelenting, suffocating heat. As I wiped the sweat from my forehead, I noticed a plane coming in for a landing. My pulse jumped.

Was it American?

I walked over and stood against a building, watching closely. If it was an American plane, I wasn’t about to let it go into Afghanistan without me.

I could be a huge asset to anyone willing to take me along. I know how to fight, I know how to shoot, and I know how to plan. If they’d just give me a chance, I could actually help.

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