Family. In the darkness, tied to a pipe, Tank's tags against her heart and Griff's blood probably still on her clothes, Sarah finally understood what that meant.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Save it for after," Ronan said. "When we're all drinking Doc's terrible coffee."
"My coffee is excellent," Doc protested.
"See?" Izzy laughed. "Only family lies about Doc's coffee."
Sarah closed her eyes, fingers numb, body aching, but spirit somehow stronger. Tank's sacrifice hadn't been in vain. Griff's injury hadn't been for nothing. And tomorrow, when Buckley tried to use them as propaganda, he'd learn what happened when you threatened Knight Tactical's family.
"Ronan?" she said quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Get me out of here. I want to see Griff before... before tomorrow."
"Count on it," he promised. "Rest now. We've got watch."
She finally found the words to pray:
Thank You for this family. For Tank's sacrifice that started this. For Griff's courage that continued it. For these voices in the dark thatwon't let me give up. Give us all strength for tomorrow. And please... let Griff be okay.
"Amen," Deke said softly, and Sarah realized she'd prayed aloud.
"Amen," came from multiple voices.
Even zip-tied in the dark, she had never felt less alone.
35
Consciousness came in waves,each one bringing new flavors of pain. Griff's head pounded, his shoulder throbbing with each heartbeat. Pale morning light filtered through a window somewhere to his left. They'd moved him during the night. He tried to move and discovered his wrists were zip-tied to a bed rail in an empty room.
Where was Sarah?
The last clear memory: her hunched over her laptop, the screen showing the upload at ninety-eight percent. Then the rifle butt to his temple. Then nothing.
They had her. He'd failed to protect her.
Voices drifted through the fog in his skull. Distant. Distorted.
"—confirmed Ghost's location?—"
"—classic cocktail, Doc. Midazolam mixed with?—"
"—seen this in Kandahar. Keeps them compliant but?—"
The voices were inside his head. No—inside his ear. The earbud. Still there.
"Ghost, if you can hear this, don't react. Tap once for yes."
Ronan. That was Ronan's voice.
Griff concentrated every functioning neuron on moving his index finger.
"Got it!" Finn's voice. "Vitals spiked. He's with us."
"Good." Ronan, calm and clinical. "Listen, brother. The drugs they gave you?—"
