Page 110 of Silent Target

Even the others stop smiling.

Caleb holds my gaze.

“I’ve buried too many people. I don’t intend to bury you.”

He believes every word.

This isn’t the protective reflex of a man assigned to keep a witness alive.

It’s personal.

Somewhere between the parking garage and this bunker, I became personal to Caleb McDougal.

I take his hand.

“I’ll stay beside you.”

Relief crosses his face.

Only for a second.

But I see it.

Of course I do.

“You’ve been carrying everyone by yourself,” I say.

He doesn’t answer.

“You don’t have to carry me.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

The countdown alarm sounds.

Four minutes, thirty seconds.

Fathom disconnects his tablet. “We need to move.”

Rook arranges us into formation.

He takes the lead. Caleb and I follow, with Shark and Falcon covering our flanks. Fathom remains near the center with Mac while Cobra protects the rear.

We enter the corridor.

The bunker lights come on one section at a time.

White fluorescent illumination stretches ahead of us.

Almost welcoming.

Mac stops.

“They turned on the lights.”

Fathom looks back. “Why does that bother you?”