26. Do Me a Favor, Sweetheart

Sydney heard Tems coming before anyone else—she felt the vibration in the car and saw him through the SUV's rear window. Her head swam from being cramped in the back for half an hour, but she'd still managed to crane her neck enough to notice the advancing officer—and then, in the distance, the dot of the approaching motorcycle.

With a single glance, she recognized Tems's silhouette riding it—and knew that he was going much too fast, that he had no intention of stopping.

She brought her phone close to her lips and whispered a single word into it. "Move."

The text appeared on the screen. She sent it to Winter.

As she did, she saw the legs of one of the soldiers walking out into the road, then his shout in the direction of the motorcycle. "Checkpoint!" he yelled in Mandarin. "Border control!"

The motorcycle sped onward. The officer hesitated, then yelled again. "I said, checkpoint!"

Then she saw running feet. "Out of the way!" someone shouted.

And everyone around her suddenly burst into chaos.

Before she left the shelter of the SUV, she glanced wildly around for a glimpse of Winter. At last, she caught sight of his figure.

She gauged the jumble of running soldiers before she scrambled out from the back of the SUV. When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw Tems leap from the seat of the motorcycle right as it slammed into the police truck.

A screaming crunch of metal and glass. Everything seemed to explode behind her.

Sydney launched herself into the hedges lining the road. She didn't need to look to know that the truck had burst into flames—not from the impact, but from something that Tems must have thrown at the truck. She crouched in the hedges to survey the scene. The SUV was lying on its side, engulfed in fire. The motorcycle crashed into the side of the border station in a fiery ball.

Soldiers ran both toward and away from the wreckage, either to save themselves or investigate what had happened.

Then she saw Tems, his face half-covered with a mask, emerging from the smoke at a run. He sprinted through the border control entry, where the flaming motorcycle had crashed right through the bar.

Two soldiers gave chase. "Stop!" one shouted in English.

The other lifted his rifle and fired in Tems's direction. But he had already moved out of range, running to the side of the station where several police motorbikes were parked.

Sydney turned her attention to where Winter ran. He was still alongside the police officer who had taken him here, his expression stunned. Somehow, though, he seemed to know where she was—and when no one was looking at her, she caught his eye.

They exchanged a single, quick, meaningful glance.

Sydney left him to go his own way as the officer guided Winter into a waiting police vehicle on the other side of the border. She sprinted instead for Tems, who had tugged on a helmet hanging from the police vehicle and revved the engine. Her lungs stretched tight, aching.

He saw her coming, but didn't bother waiting for her. Asshole untilthe end, she thought wryly as she forced herself to sprint faster, her lungs heaving in a painful spasm.

She managed to grab his sleeve right as he took off, swinging herself onto the back of the motorcycle as they fled.

"Where's Winter headed?" he said over his shoulder.

Sydney heard the crack of two rifle shots behind them. Tems swerved into another lane, then back again, over and over.

"The private airfield," she called back.

Another rifle shot dinged the metal of one of the motorcycle's handlebars, and Tems's grip shook for a second. He steadied them again and took the first exit off the freeway, the signs written now in Malay. Behind them, Sydney could hear several motorcycles giving chase, the other soldiers finally on their trail.

"We're going to have to take the long route," Tems shouted. He blasted through a stoplight, then a second one, narrowly avoiding a collision between two cars.

"What delayed you back at the hotel?" Sydney asked.

"Police came to the lobby," he shouted. "Probably called there by the old lady. They were doing a search."

He sounded like he was saying more, but the roar of motorcycles behind them drowned him out. He made a sharp left turn, cutting off more traffic.

Then Sydney hissed. Up ahead, she could see more police. They were trying to fence them off.

Tems cursed, screeched to a stop, and reversed the motorbike. "Hold on tight," he shouted, and Sydney forced herself to wrap her arms tightly around his waist.

He sped back the way they'd come, blowing through another stoplight.

"Make a right!" she shouted at him. "Right!" She'd studied the map long enough before they came this way—if Tems didn't make a turn soon, he'd take them too far from the airfield. But he must not have heard her, because he kept going.

Then, suddenly, he braked hard.

Down the road from them came two more soldiers on motorbikes, rifles pointed in their direction.

Without warning, Tems swung down from the motorbike. He gave Sydney a hard look, then motioned for her to scoot forward on the bike. For her to go on.

"Go!" he shouted.

Sydney froze for a fraction of a second, watching in disbelief as Tems walked out to the middle of the road and held his hands up. He met her hesitation with another glare, one full of fire. Ahead of him, the two soldiers began to slow. As one of them swung off his bike, Tems broke his fa?ade of surrender. He rushed at the soldier, knocking him off his feet with a well-placed blow to the neck. As the man fell, Tems grabbed his rifle.

"Do me a favor, sweetheart," he called over his shoulder. "And get the hell out of here!"

In a flash, she recalled when he'd told her what had happened in Stockholm.

A friend of mine on the mission was killed that night.

Was she going to lose someone else today?

Sydney couldn't afford to waste any more of the time that Tems was buying her. She scooted forward on the bike, then revved the engine hard and jerked forward. She had to get to Winter, make sure he was secure. Behind her, Tems raced for the second police motorbike.

Sydney veered the bike sharply around and, with the two soldiers distracted, zoomed down the road in the direction that they had come. She glanced over her shoulder one more time, expecting to see Tems on the bike behind her—

But he wasn't. Instead, his head was turned in the direction of two more soldiers blocking his path. He hadn't reached the motorbike, and now he was surrounded.

Sydney was about to turn the bike around for him when she saw him give her an angry shake of his head. A second later, one of the soldiers struck him in the chin with the butt of his rifle. She saw Tems go down.

Every ounce of her screamed to go back for him. But she gritted her teeth and turned to face the road again. They would take Tems in alive, for questioning. And it would do neither of them any good if she were to get arrested with him.

So she hardened her heart, and fled alone.