"Exfil options?"
"Still working on it. The roads are compromised—they've got spotters on every route back to civilization. Helicopter extraction requires a clearing, and the nearest one is an hour east on foot."
An hour. With cartel soldiers behind us and unknown terrain ahead.
"What about the ridge route? If we can get above them?—"
"Checking."Pause. Keys clicking."There's a canyon about three klicks east. Satellite shows some cliff formations on either side. If you can get across, they'll have to go around—adds hours to their pursuit, gives extraction a much better window."
"How do we get across?"
"There was a rope bridge. Emphasis on was. Satellite shows it's been cut. Recently."
"So they knew we'd go this way."
"Looks like. Someone's doing their homework."
"Can we go around?"
"Adds four hours minimum. Rough terrain, and you'd be moving parallel to their perimeter instead of away from it."
Four hours. The cartel will have helicopters by then. Dogs. Numbers that make survival a rounding error.
"What about the canyon itself? Climbing options?"
"The walls are..."More clicking."Significant."
"Define significant, Mitzy."
"Like, 'I hope you remembered your rope and harness' significant. Two hundred feet of granite on both sides. Near-vertical. Some routes might be climbable, but it's technical stuff. Expert-level, not weekend-warrior."
I glance at Evie. She's listening—my earpiece isn't exactly subtle, and she's clearly picking up at least my half of the conversation.
"We'll assess when we get there. Keep tracking the pursuit and let me know if they start moving again."
"Copy. And Riot?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't be an idiot."
"When have I ever been an idiot?"
"I have a list. It's alphabetized. Mitzy out."
I pocket the earpiece and turn to Evie. "You catch any of that?"
"Enough. There's a canyon ahead, the bridge is gone, and we're running out of options."
"That's the highlight reel, yeah."
"And the alternative is four hours in the wrong direction while they hunt us with helicopters."
"You're quick."
"I'm a kindergarten teacher. We have to think three steps ahead, or the finger-painting becomes chaos." She says it deadpan, and I bark out a laugh before I can stop myself.
This woman. This impossible, terrifying, rock-throwing woman.
