Page 63 of Echo: Line
"Copy." Alex pulls into a parking space with direct line of sight to the convenience store entrance. "Remember the timing. Thirty seconds of exposure, then we're gone."
"Got it." My hand rests on the door handle. "I walk to the store, make sure I'm visible on their security cameras, then return to vehicle. You stay here, engine running."
"And if something goes wrong?"
"I run back to the truck and you drive like hell." I manage a smile despite the fear churning in my gut. "We've been over this."
"I know. Just..." He reaches across the console, threading his fingers through mine. "Be careful."
"You too."
I get out of the car. The air is cold and sharp, carrying the scent of diesel and pine. Every instinct screams at me to get back in the vehicle, to run, to hide. But I force myself to walk across the parking lot with measured steps. Not too fast. Not too slow. Just a woman stopping for coffee and gas.
The security camera above the entrance tracks my movement. I tilt my face up slightly—enough for facial recognition to get a clear shot, not enough to be obvious. Then I'm through the doors into fluorescent brightness and the smell of burnt coffee.
Twenty seconds. That's all we need. Long enough for Committee's surveillance algorithms to flag my face. Short enough that we can be gone before they mobilize a response team.
I grab a candy bar from the rack near the register. Make eye contact with the cashier. Let her see my face clearly.
Fifteen seconds.
The cashier rings me up. I pay in cash. She hands me change and a receipt.
Ten seconds.
I'm turning toward the door when I see them.
Two SUVs pulling into the lot. Black. Tinted windows. Moving with purpose that has nothing to do with refueling or rest stops.
"Alex." I keep my voice low, steady. "We've got company. Two vehicles, north entrance."
"I see them." His voice is tight. "Move now. Fast but controlled."
I'm through the door and across the parking lot in seconds. Alex has the truck in gear before I'm fully inside, pulls out of the space as the SUVs accelerate toward us.
"They were already here," I breathe. "Waiting for us."
"I know." He takes a hard right, tires squealing. "Stryker, we're burned. The Committee was in position before we arrived."
"How?" Stryker's voice carries the same shock I'm feeling. "The operation was clean. No way they had time to mobilize that fast."
Gunfire cuts him off. The rear window explodes in a shower of glass. Alex swerves, keeps the vehicle between us and the shooters. More rounds punch through the bed, the side panels. The truck shudders but keeps moving.
Alex's jaw clenches. "Their response time is impossible."
He cranks the wheel hard left, takes us off the highway onto a narrow forest road. Trees blur past on both sides. The truck bottoms out on rough terrain but he keeps accelerating, puts distance between us and the pursuit.
Behind us, the SUVs follow. Close. Too close.
"Can we lose them?" I twist to look out the destroyed rear window.
"Not in this." His eyes flick to the rearview. "They've got better vehicles, more firepower. We need to ditch the truck and go on foot."
"In the wilderness? They'll hunt us down."
"They'll hunt us anyway." He takes another turn, the truck fishtailing on loose gravel. "At least in the forest we can use terrain to our advantage. Level the playing field."
More gunfire. The rear tire explodes. Alex fights the wheel as the truck lurches sideways, skids across the road. He manages to keep us upright but we're slowing. Losing momentum.
