Page 3 of Dangerous Mission
“Close enough.”
“Good.” He exhales a tired groan. “Do you mind picking up the DepthStrike team? Their plane should be landing any time now.”
My eyes—seconds ago narrowed on the watery road—go wide and instantly dry as I almost run into the ditch.
“Did you say,DepthStrike,as in Kane’s company?”
Sure as shit, Beast confirms the missile that just left the launcher and is coming straight at the center of my chest.
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
Fuck. Fucking fuck.
“Did you hear me?” His voice fades in and out because monsoon season and cell towers don’t go together in Vandemora.
“I heard you.”
A bomb couldn’t have been louder. My ears are ringing.
“Camile and I can get them if it’s better,” Beast offers, clearly detecting something from my curt undertone. “You’re just closer so I thought I’d see.”
Scrubbing a hand over my open mouth, I consider telling him I quit.
Out. See ya if I see ya.
But my mouth betrays me, not my team. “No, get some sleep. We’ve all been up far too long. I’ll pick up Kane and his divers and get them to the farm.”
I’d never do that to Team Falcon or to the missing woman. I know my place and I’m needed here, no matter how jacked up I am.
Jesus. I knew a team was coming, I knew they would be arriving tonight.How did I not know it was DepthStrike?
Anxiety churning in my gut, I let off the gas as the truck tries to hydroplane.
Somehow I missed this fact because I’ve had my head in logistics preparations. And there’s plenty of that going on.I’m Agile Security & Rescue’s liaison for the cave diving searches.
But I didn’t know my head was buried in the sand.
Faaak. “Has it always been DepthStrike?” I ask, baffled.
“Yeah. They’re the best. We spared no expense.”
He’s not wrong there. Kane’s got a hell of a reputation. “Did you tell me that’s who you hired?”
“I said the wrong name. I called them Deep something.”
“Deep Attack,” I mutter. “Now I remember.”
Deep attack is right.On my goddamned sanity.
“Sorry, major fumble on that, but you know who they are.”
“Copy, I’m on it,” I reply, my voice tight, my stomach tighter. Squeezing out two more words, I end the call. “Signing off.”
My fist returns to my mouth, only this time I mash it against my face hard, until I taste copper.
Griffon Kane, former Delta Force operator and witness to the worst moment in my life is coming to work on our case with us. Here. Now.
A glance at the GPS on the dash only makes everything worse. Six minutes out from the airport.