So now we have seven people crowded into this rusty van—me, Yara, Rafe, Indy, Tyler, Saint, Grover, and Trigger. Webb’sback home, keeping an eye on HQ. It’s how we always do it, keeping one team member back at home to manage emergencies and protect the women, if necessary.
I wish Yara was back there, too. Not because she’s some helpless woman who needs protecting, but… Shit. I don’t want her here, even though she has every right to be. After all, if not for the comment Davis made to her, we wouldn’t have known to look into Malik’s death.
We—well, Tyler, really—wouldn’t have discovered that Malik’s death was faked, and the DNA evidence the Army found in a mass grave was only from a finger, but nothing else.
It’s not pleasant thinking about howthe finger got there. After it came up during one of our planning meetings, Yara came back to the apartment and burst into tears. “I didn’t know,” she sobbed. “We were only told there was DNA evidence. Not that it was hisfinger.” She looked at me, stricken. “What have they been doing to him, Ace? All this time, and I didn’t know.”
Fuck, I hope we get him out of there. I’m not sure how I’ll face Yara if we don’t.
“Looks like the best spot to me,” Trigger answers. He lifts his chin at Rafe. “With it being dark, we should be able to reach the building undetected.”
“Agreed,” Grover adds. “And around here, there won’t be any light pollution to screw things up.”
“Good call, waiting the extra day for the new moon,” Indy adds. He glances back at Yara, his expression sympathetic. “I know it sucks, waiting. Especially knowing he’s right there…”
“It makes sense,” Yara replies. She reaches for my hand and squeezes it hard. “Rationally, I know one more day shouldn’t matter.”
I give her hand an answering squeeze. “You want to get him out. We get it.”
“We all want to get him out,” Saint adds. His gaze moves to the rearview mirror again, searching for Yara in the third row of seats. “And we will, Tink. We’re not going back without him.”
His words send a cold shiver down my back. I know he means we’re all going back to the States, Malik included. But I don’t like the other way his words could be taken—that our mission will fail and none of us make it home alive.
“The trees should be just around the curve in the road,” Tyler interjects. He gestures with his chin in that direction. “It’s not a forest by any means, but there should be enough to hide the van until we’re ready to leave.”
Saint nods. “Got it.” He pulls down his night-vision goggles and flicks the headlights off. “Going dark on approach.”
The tension inside the van thickens.
Everyone sits up even straighter.
There’s a collective inhale, as everyone prepares for what’s coming next.
Our plan is as sound as it can get, but it’s still far from a sure thing.
We won’t have much cover on approach, not in this part of Iran, with just a smattering of trees to shield us. Though the area we’re in is relatively unpopulated, people still live here. People who might notice an unfamiliar van and be suspicious. People who might spot us making our way to the building where Malik is supposedly being held and raise the alarm.
If that happens, the mission becomes much more complicated. We don’t want to hurt an innocent local whose only mistake is being at the wrong place at the wrong time. But faced with possible exposure, we might not have a choice.
“Okay,” Rafe says. His voice takes on a low, commanding tone. “Let’s go over this one last time.”
The van hits a large divot in the road, bouncing us off our seats.
Saint mutters an unintelligible curse. “Sorry. I didn’t see that one.”
I wrap my arm around Yara, holding her steady. I know she’s capable of doing it herself. But dammit, I need to touch her. Feel her body snugged up against me.
She leans her head close to mine and whispers, “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” I whisper back.
“Because I know me being here is making you anxious,” she replies, soft enough that no one else can hear her. “I know you didn’t want me to come.”
She’s right. On both parts. My anxiety is worse than it’s been in years. And I desperately wish Yara was back at B and A, being supported by Webb, Eden, Bea, and Noelle. They’d all be gathered at Eden’s house, most likely, watching TV while Bea cooks like crazy—the same routine they always follow whenever the team has to leave on a job with any element of danger.
“It’s not that I don’t think you can do it,” I reply, still keeping my voice low. “I know you can. It’s just…”
“You’re worried about me,” she finishes. “I get it. Because I’m worried about you, too.”
