"What's east?"
"Right now? Nothing good." That crooked smile again, the one that makes my chest do uncomfortable things. "But nothing good is better than what's behind us."
He holds out his hand.
I look at it. Broad palm, long fingers, and calluses. The hand of someone who works, who fights, who does things that leave marks.
I take it.
His grip is warm and firm, sending a jolt of something electric up my arm. Just adrenaline. Just the aftermath of almost dying. Nothing to do with the way his thumb brushes across my knuckles before he lets go.
He starts walking. I follow.
And I definitely don't think about his hand for the next mile.
I think about it constantly.
The sun clears the ridgeline, flooding the forest with gold. The fear is still there—coiled in my stomach, sharp at the edges of every thought—but underneath it, something else is rising.
Something that is the woman I only let myself be on cliff faces, finally out in the open air.
You're going to die,Daniel's voice whispers.
Maybe,I think back.But I'm going to die being me.
I keep walking.
FOUR
The Chase
RIOT
The kindergarten teacherthrew a rock at an armed cartel soldier, and the image of her face when she did it?
Flushed. Furious.
Absolutely fucking magnificent.
She threw a rock. Not a scream, not a freeze, not a panicked bolt in the wrong direction. She assessed the threat, found a weapon, and acted. And then she looked at me with those big brown eyes and said It worked’ like she was mildly surprised but not particularly impressed with herself.
In three years of extractions, I've seen trained operatives do worse under pressure.
Focus, Jones. She's a package. A witness. A job.
A job.
"Contact Mitzy." I tap my earpiece, keeping my voice low. "Sitrep."
Static, then her voice cuts through—sharp, alert, zero trace of the manic poker player from four hours ago."I've got you on satellite. Three vehicles at the cabin, more inbound from the west. You've got maybe six hostiles on foot entering the treeline now."
"Only six? I'm offended. I thought I rated at least a dozen."
"Save the comedy for when you're not being hunted. The two agents?"
"Derek won't be doing much breathing without a hospital. Travis might wake up eventually." I duck under a low branch, checking that Evie is still behind me. She is—moving quietly, watching her footing, not wasting breath on questions. "They'll talk when they wake up. Give Yates something to work with."
"Copy. Your pursuit is spreading out—looks like they're trying to establish a perimeter to the north and south. East is still your best bet."
