“If we lose the connection, sir,” Dave told the admiral, “we’ll move to a more open area and call you back.”
“Where are you?” Francisco barked.
Rio read off their coordinates, and Dave added, “Not too far outside of town. We’re still about an hour from the site of the burned SUV, another... I’d say two after that from the Ustanzian compound.”
“Fuck.” Francisco was sharply not happy.
Rio met Dave’s eyes, because the admiral rarely used that language. At least not in front of enlisted men.
“I was hoping you’d be closer,” the admiral said.
And Rio suddenly and completely understood what was on the verge of happening here. They were going to be redirected. Now. When they were almost at their destination.Fuckwas putting it mildly. “Sir, weareclose,” he said. “In fact, I realize now that I read those coordinates wrong—”
“Nice try, Rosetti, but no. We’ve picked up your signal and with it your location,” the admiral said. “You’re significantly closer to the airfield. You need to go there. Now.”
“What’s going on, sir?” Dave asked.
“Prince Tedric took one of the family planes.” The admiral’s voice was grim. “He’s got a pilot license, so he’s flying back in—alone—to try to save Tasha, and instead he’s gonna get himself killed. We need you to be there, waiting for him—to take him to Burlington.”
“That’s all the way over in Vermont,” Dave told Rio,sotto voceas he checked the map.
But the admiral heard him. “It’s closer than Hanscom. He’ll be safe there.”
“Sir, can’t we ask the police or the sheriff’s department—”
“Until we know who’s behind the attack on the ski lodge, we can’t trust the locals.”
Rio took a deep breath and exhaled it, hard. “What’s the prince’s ETA, sir?”
“Unknown.”
“An estimate, then,” Rio asked. “When and from where did he depart?”
“Unknown.” The admiral was apoplectic. “The Ustanzians refuse to share any information that could compromise their location. Our best guess is anywhere from one to five hours.”
Un-fucking-believable. “Sir,” Rio tried, “Patterson and I could split up and—”
“I need both of you protecting the prince,” Francisco shot that idea down, hard and fast.
“Sir, can’t you intercept via air?” Dave asked. “Aren’t all flights still shut down? How did he get permission to—”
“He didn’t. He just got in the plane and left.”
“Fucking shoot him down,” Rio couldn’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth. “Sir.”
“We’re looking to avoid an international incident, Rosetti, not start one,” Admiral Francisco said. “Look, I hate this more than you, but the order is coming from above me. This is top priority. Just go there, wait til he shows, get him to Burlington, and then go find my kid.”
Chapter Fifteen
Tuesday Night
It was obvious that Tasha had waited up for him.
Their plan had been for her to crash on the living room couch, with hopes that she’d awaken when Thomas returned from his oh-dark-hundred sneak-and-peek. They’d experimented before he’d left, and discovered that if the lights in the pod were out, they wentonfor five blinding seconds when the hatch door was opened. Still, that was no guarantee that Tasha would wake up.
But the bolt clicked right after he delivered their Lizzo-knock on the door.
“Yay, you’re alive!” she said brightly—clearly not groggy from sleep. Her smile was infectious—it was impossible to not grin back at her in agreement. Yay, he was alive, indeed. She’d taken off her towel-hat—he noticed that immediately—and her hair gleamed as it curled around her face.
