Page 72 of Covert Mission
When he’s done with his radio, he lowers something into the opening. “I’m good now. You are a miracle.”
The miracle my father didn’t want.
I shove to a standing position and sway. My hands clench into fists. Blood trickles down my arm and into my glove, running between my fingers.
Fuck my father.
He doesn’t deserve another second of my attention until I need that burning, all-consuming fury.
Not now. I need to shake that before it drags me into an abyss of pain. I spent enough years there to recognize the slippery slope.
I give myself a mental kick. I need to find Truck. The team is my responsibility.
“I’m looking for one of my men. Tall guy. Gray shirt. Light brown hair.”
“He was with the medic.” The man motions with his chin. “Big guy, lots of tattoos. He’s over that way.”
“Thanks.”
I take off in an awkward scramble toward another group of workers that are clustered under another set of temporary lights.
It’s not long before I spot Truck.
A heavy knot settles in my belly.
He’s on a stretcher. Fuck, we’ve been on the mission for less than a day. The wheels are coming off the bus every which way.
We didn’t know we were going to be walking into an earthquake disaster zone when we took the mission.
Then there’s Camile and her team to deal with.
Now Truck’s injured.
What else can go wrong?
ChapterTwenty-One
The command center has a steady stream of official-looking people coming and going. Minutes tick by. Medics deploy to the dig site.
“I’m so nervous.” My hands twist and tug at the hem of my shirt.
Pembrook shifts his weight back and forth. “You’re making me nervous, too.”
“Let’s go over there.” Brian elbows Pembrook and gives him a barely concealed pleading look. “Looks like they are putting together some tables, maybe we can help.”
The guys take off.
I blow out a breath. “I’m glad they left. I don’t need anyone else looking at me while I agonize.”
We watch as the medical teams carry large bags of equipment and stretchers through the rugged debris field. It looks incredibly dangerous. Something could shift at any second.
Belle says, “They’ll be okay. Look at all these experts. I mean, look at that dog. How amazing what they can do with K-9s. That would be a cool job.”
“I can’t imagine going in there. But I’m not going to be able to sit here. I need to do something.”
Belle’s head whips toward me. She looks royally ticked. “Yeah, you do need to do something. You need to wait. I know you heard Bossy Pants SEAL. He might be a grump, but he’s a correct grump. We should stay put. Right now they need strong men. And we need to be here because it’s safer to be around all of these official staff people.”
She’s right. But it’s not easy. “Worrying about them being okay is turning my stomach into a ball of fire.”