Henderson glanced over, nodded.Rowan found a table covered with topo maps, cleared a space for both of them.She settled down, watching intently.
“Heavy fire on your nine, watch out, on your nine.”Yoshi sounded calm, as always, but Rowan’s heart flipped.Who was out, and where were they?“Cassie, see if you can give him a little cover.Rick, stay down.Cassie’s coming in.”
Rick and Cassie.Deborah’s team.They must be coming in from California.Rowan caught a flare of complex feeling from Yoshi; he’d been hanging out a lot with Deborah, teaching her codestringing tricks.
Rowan was about to push her chair back and hover over him, seeking to help, but Justin’s hand covered her bruised wrist.“Eat first,” he said.“Won’t do anyone any good if you collapse.”
So she sat and listened through the mission gone critical, barely tasting the food as Deborah reported being pinned under heavy fire with Sigs everywhere and half her team wounded.She didn’t sound happy, but neither did she sound panicked.
“Just sit tight, Deb,” Yoshi murmured.“They’re on the way.”Then, he said, “Cath, you read me?They’re pinned.”
Cath’s out there?Oh, God.Rowan listened, mechanically eating and marking off the intervals as Yoshi spoke, only his almost-blurring fingers showing the strain.The tender places inside her head twinged a little as she fought the urge to help; there was nothing she coulddo.
Yosh was perfectly calm, Henderson didn’t need her.She could help best by staying out of the way.Cath.Be careful, honey.I hope Zeke’s with her.And Brew.
“Steady, steady… Here they come.Staydown.They’re coming in fast.There.”Yosh sounded relieved.“Get everyone aboard.Don’tworryabout the Sigs, Deb, that’s Brew’s job.Yessir, I’m working on it.”His fingers danced.“Nasty little buggers, aren’t they.”
He spared a look at Henderson, nodded.The older man straightened, steel-rimmed glasses glinting.
“Thank God.”Henderson’s mouth shaped the words.He rubbed briefly at his nape, and glanced at Rowan and Justin.
Rowan found, much to her surprise, that she’d eaten three-quarters of her food.Her coffee had cooled, too.She finished it in two long swallows.Welcome caffeine was filtering into her bloodstream.
“Hey,” she said as Henderson approached, his boots clicking on the floor.“What can I do?”
“Not a damn thing.”Henderson stretched, rolled his shoulders.The long-sleeved shirt clung, and his Glock rode in a shoulder holster.He wore jeans, but was barefoot; his dark hair was rumpled and ruffled, white streak glinting.“They’ll be fine.Cath and Brew will bring ‘em all home.Yoshi’ll be glad to see Deb again.”For some reason Henderson glanced at Justin, who had finished his food, staring into his coffee cup.“A Sig net in Cincinnati and some heavy fire.They just snatched a new telepath right from under Sigma’s nose.How you doing, Del?”
“Better than a while ago,” Justin replied.“Hear you’ve drained the resource net.Any complications?”
“Nope.Goddamn good to have you back.Price, I have some printouts I want you to look over, and I wanted to ask you something.”Henderson pulled out the third chair at the table, glanced back at Yoshi, whose tension had begun to stain the air now that the crisis was over.
Yosh stretched, exhaled hard, and went back to tapping at his keyboard.
“Sure.”What on earth would you want to ask me?Justin’s back.Her head twinged, the bursts of pain less frequent now.“How are you feeling, General?”
He granted a tight smile.“Screwed six ways from Sunday, girl.Glad we didn’t lose you.”
Give in.Give in.Give in to me, let me IN.Memory rose, a vise clamping her temples, something invisible working in, burrowing.She was still tender, mentally bruised from the blind man’s attack.
Rowan shuddered, returned to herself with a jolt.“I’m glad too.”
“Was it Carson?What’s his status?”He looked at Justin, steely eyes glinting, and Rowan was suddenly, utterly, relieved.
Being Henderson’s second was more stress than she needed, mostly because she was always afraid of screwing up and costing someone their life.Thankfully, it hadn’t happened yet—unless she counted everyone at the old Headquarters.
And Justin himself.
“I hope he’s dead.”Justin leaned back in his chair, eyes bright and mouth curling up in a familiar, unamused half-smile.He moved easily inside his rig, as if glad to have its familiar weight on his shoulders.Just didn’t look right without a couple of guns hanging on him; Rowan supposed it was habit.
She touched the butt of her own Glock, a familiar weight under her left arm.
Henderson reached over for a carafe almost buried under the topos, poured them both a fresh jolt.“You need sugar, Ro?”She shook her head no, so he returned attention to Justin.“Youhopehe’s dead?”
“I hit him with everything I had and sank a knife in his throat, boss.If he’s still breathing it’s not for lack of effort onmypart.”
Oh, God, I hope he’s dead, too.Rowan wrapped her fingers around the mug, grateful for the scorching.“Should I go and?—”
“No, I need you here.What’syourestimation of Carson’s status?”
