Page 13 of Ford

He was watching a white speck in the distance as it moved across the horizon.

“My team.”

“Your fútbol team?”

He laughed, then pressed his hand to his chest. Yeah, that hurt. “No, my SEAL team. My chief, Nez, and then there’s Sonny and Kenny C and Trini and Levi and Cruz and Scarlett—”

Oh. No. Not Scarlett. Not anymore.

“You have a girl on your team?”

“She doesn’t deploy with us, but she’s there—was there—helping us.”

In fact, she probably would have seen the first—and second shooter—and warned him.

Now his chest ached for an entirely different reason. “They’ll be here, I’m sure. Anytime.”

“I hope so.” She drew up her legs into her sodden dress. “I wanna go home.”

“Me too, kid. Me too.”

The white speck was getting bigger, taking form. He shouldn’t have ditched his vest, wishing for his binoculars. Instead, he cupped his hand over his eyes.

A boat skimming through the waves.

He needed a weapon.

“Get behind these rocks.” He forced himself to his feet, stumbling over to a boulder the size of a Volkswagen. When he crouched down, he pulled Anastasia in front of him, his body pocketing her.

“Stay down and don’t move, don’t talk. No matter what happens, you stay down, okay? I promise, my guys will find you.”

She had her hands over her ears, but she nodded.

The boat came closer and he spotted uniforms on the bow. It seemed like a yacht, not a naval vessel, but who knew what army commandeered what vessels out here.

They definitely held weapons, the sun glinting off long, unsheathed barrels.

Could be the Azerbaijanis, could be the Russians. And, they were just a stone’s throw from Iran.

Ford pulled his Windsor from his leg sheath. Glanced down at Anastasia. Her eyes were big, glancing at the knife.

He put a finger to his lips.

She closed her eyes.

The boat stopped offshore, the captain clearly hesitant to enter the pull of the current into the splash of the rocks.

A Zodiac spilled out from the end of the boat, heading over the water, two men hunkered down in the body, another at the motor.

Please, God, he just wanted to make it home.

No, amend that. He wanted Anastasia to make it home. And he wanted RJ to make it home.

And if possible, he’d like to see Scarlett again.

But God had already answered enough prayers, so maybe Ford had to handle this on his own.

The Zodiac slipped over the surf, rode a wave in, and slid onto the pebbled shore.