Page 167 of Silent Target

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“He missed.”

My fingers touch warm blood beneath his jacket.

“You’re bleeding.”

“From before.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

Emergency lights blink on.

Caleb is leaning against the wall, one arm clamped over his side.

But his eyes are moving over me.

Checking.

Counting.

“Turn around.”

I almost laugh.

“You were the one fighting a man twice your size.”

“Evie.”

I turn.

His hands check the back of my vest and the side of my neck where Victor held the pistol.

Only when he’s satisfied does he breathe again.

“You didn’t put down the rifle,” I say.

“I was going to.”

“No, you weren’t.”

One corner of his mouth lifts.

“No.”

The steel door behind us remains sealed.

The team is on the other side.

Fathom’s muffled voice comes through the radio.

“Caleb? Evie?”

“We’re alive.”

Relief erupts across the channel.