Former SEAL pilot.
Current problem solver.
“Carter,” I say. “I need a bird.”
Silence.
Then—
“How fast?”
“Now.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“Three hundred miles. Southbound intercept.”
“What’s chasing you this time?”
I glance back at Wren’s screen.
The expanding red circle.
The countdown.
Los Angeles flashing in the center.
“A national infrastructure collapse.”
Another pause.
Then Logan exhales slowly.
“…You really know how to ruin my afternoon. We don’t tell Scout about what’s going on, or she will jump right in the middle of this.”
“Can you do it? We won’t tell Scout.”
“Yes.”
Relief moves through my chest like oxygen.
“Where?”
“Small landing strip fifteen minutes east of you,” Logan says. “Old wildfire staging field. You know it?”
“I do.”
“Good.”
Rotor blades echo faintly through the phone.
“I’m already airborne.”
Russ’s eyes widen.
“You’re kidding.”
“Thirty minutes,” Logan says. “Maybe twenty-five if the wind behaves.”
