Chapter 17

17

OUTSIDE SURABAYA, INDONESIA

Refocused and geared up, Garrett briefed Zim as Delaney shifted to sit in the operator's chair, her legs still wobbly. She smoothed her hair back into a ponytail.

"Hakim and Tariq are aboard." Garrett jerked his thumb into the car portion. "Rashid too, but Rogue neutralized him. Unknown if there are civilians up there, but we'll also have the train driver to deal with."

"Understood."

Garrett eyed her. "Think you're up to handling Surge as we clear the train?"

Wariness crowded her expression, but she slowly nodded. "I think . . ." She shuddered a breath, and the ghost of a smile hit her eyes. "I'm here, so I might as well do what I know to do."

He liked that. Liked that she'd rallied, that she had the grit to get back in the fight when things got hard. "I'll take lead, you'll stay behind me, and Zim will bring up the rear. Use a shoulder tap to signal in position each time we stop. Zim will tap yours, you tap mine. It'll tell me you're both ready. Clear?"

Clipping a lead to Surge, she nodded.

Weapon in a low-ready position, Garrett eased through to the connecting freight car. He moved past Rashid's body and pointed out the LD3s for Zim to mentally catalog for later use.

As they shifted past the body, Delaney let Surge sniff it again, as if maybe hoping she hadn't really killed the guy. She met his gaze and swallowed. "There, uh, wasn't anyone else in the car, so we should be okay."

"Always check," Garrett said as he pivoted and advanced with lethal determination. "We'll let him lead in the next car."

They moved steady and smooth to the next juncture. "Wait," he subvocalized, hand on the door. When she gave a nod of understanding, he flicked open the door and stepped in, doing a quick look-see, sweeping from the corner around to the right. He stepped forward and motioned her, keeping his weapon up and trained forward. He shifted to the side and looked to her. "Let him take point. Stay with me."

She nodded and extended the lead, staying just behind his shoulder as they moved through the crates of freight packing the car. They made it to the other door with no hits and no contact. He called that a win.

"Same thing. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast."

A wry look creased her pretty face, but she again inclined her head.

Again, he eased in, cleared left then swept around to the right. More of the same—crates packed to the ceiling, leaving little walkway. Delaney extended the lead and let Surge again do his thing. Same result—no hits, no contact.

By the seventh car, they'd fallen into a steady rhythm that made things comfortable. Yet he knew this was like Russian roulette—the more they cleared, the more likely that the next door concealed trouble. The metal-on-metal sound of the train wheels on the track drummed a cadence as they continued to advance.

"Only two cars left, plus the operation car," he subvocalized before entering the juncture. "We're going to make contact soon."

"Not soon— now ," Delaney said, indicating to Surge.

He frowned at her, but then saw the maligator had locked onto the next door, staring through it as though he had X-ray vision. The muscles in his body rippled, and his hackles rose. A low rumble sent chills up Garrett's back.

Garrett met Zim's gaze and gave a firm nod, which the guy returned. "Once in and clear, stay close, Rogue."

"I trust you."

He twitched his gaze to hers, appreciating that but also well aware that her life and Surge's were on his shoulders. Just like Djibouti. Like Samwise. And Tsunami.

God, have mercy!

Stress pinched the nerve at the base of his neck. She stared at the door, knowing this was it. Surge had a hit, so there were either unfriendlies on the other side or the chems. Maybe both. Which meant they'd face opposition.

"Trust God." Delaney's whispered words skated down his neck.

He shifted and saw her face very close, appreciated her confident nod. Wasn't sure how he felt about her throwing his own words back at him, but she was right. Bouncing a nod, he angled to the front. Hit the release button and eased open the door.

Ping! Ping! Crack!

Garrett jerked back and threw himself to the side. "Contact! Down!"

They huddled there, and he eyed Zim and Delaney. "New plan," he hissed. "Tariq is by the far door. I'll go in and lay down suppressive fire. Rogue, stay with me. We'll go right with Surge, and you can take cover when needed. Zim, work your way toward Tariq on the left."

"Copy that," Zim said, his hand firming around his weapon. "I want Tariq."

And Garrett wanted Hakim, the man who'd taken on his evil father's goals . . . Fahmi Ansari, who'd killed himself to take out Samwise and Tsunami. Garrett gave his partner a curt nod. Rather than being paralyzed by fear, he'd use determination to drive him.

Repositioned to insert, they stacked at the door, this time with Zim flanking it. He held up his fingers. Three . . . two . . .

Zim hit the access panel and flicked open the door.

Submachine gun tucked into his shoulder, Garrett squeezed off rounds, advancing to the corner of the container. Though Tariq fired off a couple of rounds, he was forced to take cover as well. A double pat came to his shoulder, and Garrett jerked back and pressed his spine to the containers. Switched to the other side and did a quick look-see. Clear. In a crouch-run, he moved, noting the way Delaney was on her hands and knees, drawing Surge into a low crawl. The dog slunk along with them. Hakim had to be somewhere.

" Apna hathyaar pheink do, Amrici !" Tariq yelled in Urdu.

"Drop your weapon!" Zim yelled at the same time, closing in on him.

The mad scientist took a crack shot at Zim, but the operator ducked out of sight, then swung out and fired a short burst as he moved.

Garrett seized the confrontation to gain the front of the car. He peered around the corner and muttered an oath. A container stood between him and Tariq, who was in a standoff with Zim. "No line of sight," he subvocalized to Zim.

Where on earth was Hakim?

A light shift beyond the last sealed juncture between this car and the operator's cabin drew Garrett's attention. Had to be Hakim. He drew up his weapon, knowing Tariq was occupied staving off Zim, and advanced to the door. Accessed it and stepped in?—

A blur rushed at him.

Awareness of Delaney with him flared through Garrett. He shifted back, blocking access to the juncture. Felt the door whisk shut even as a dagger came at him. He stepped forward, reaching for his Sig as the door between the cars shut out the noise—and the team—behind him.

Hakim lunged with a knife and a feral scream.

Darting toward the man, Garrett deflected his knife hand. Caught Hakim's wrist while simultaneously sliding his own right hand up and behind the guy's neck. He gripped it tight and drove it down and around, enabling himself to get the guy's knife hand twisted up behind?—

With a roar, Hakim dropped hard and released the weapon, then drove upward with a violent thrust, breaking Garrett's lock. He shoved Garrett backward, driving him into the wall. Garrett skidded around, drawing his Sig.

But Hakim rushed him.

Garrett raised his left arm at an angle, and Hakim rammed into his forearm, chest height, punching the breath from Garrett's lungs. He strained around the move and pushed his left shoulder forward to force Hakim back. Struggled to bring the weapon into a firing position, even as the breath choked out of him.

Hakim shifted suddenly.

A searing cut blazed across Garrett's forearm. He gritted through it, still determined to bring the Sig to bear. End this guy. With a roar, he shoved the terrorist backward. Got a foot between them. Snapped up his weapon and eased back the trigger. Once. Twice.

Gaping as blood slid between his eyes, Hakim slumped to the ground. Dead.

A scream came from the interior of the freight car.

"Delaney!" He snatched the knife and slapped the access panel. Shouldered into the door, weapon at the ready.

To the right, he spotted a flurry of activity that moved out of sight. He angled that way as he heard Delaney shout for Surge to attack.

Around the corner of the container, he spotted?—

A blow to the back of his head pitched Garrett forward. He stumbled. Air rushed out of his mouth in a cough. But he drew up his weapon and came around—only to feel a bullet graze his shoulder. "Augh!" He wasn't going down. Not with Delaney here. He fired a round as the guy rushed him again.

But this time, Surge appeared over the container. Barreled at the guy. Broadsided him, slamming him in the door of the juncture. He chomped into the tender spot of Tariq's clavicle, eliciting a howl of agony.

It bought time for Garrett to get on his feet just as Delaney rounded the corner, her eyes wide. "Call him off," he said, aiming the submachine gun at the guy.

"Surge, out," Delaney said, the command fierce and controlled.

As soon as the maligator worked his teeth out of the shoulder and pushed away, Tariq lunged for his gun.

Garrett double-tapped the guy. Motioned Delaney to the side with Surge as he swiveled to Zim, who was panting hard. "You okay?"

The kid nodded. "With that guy down, yeah. At least he can't use science for evil anymore." He jutted his jaw. "Gotta stop the train."

"Copy that." Garrett headed back to the juncture and eyed the access panel. Hit it and the door popped open. He stepped in, weapon up.

The driver was hunched over the console and wheel, blood spilling across the white surface.

Garrett felt for a pulse. "Dead." He eyed the console and huffed—set to autopilot. "They didn't want anyone stopping it."

Coming in with Delaney, Zim dropped his ruck to the floor, moved the chair back, and played around with the controls. He sighed. "I have no idea how to slow this."

"Look it up," Garrett grunted as he peered out the long, sloping window. "We have six mikes before this thing enters the city. Takes five to slow it. You have thirty seconds to figure it out."

"Pressure, pressure," Zim muttered, scanning the dials, switches, and screens. "Okay . . ." He flicked a switch. "Autopilot is off. This . . . is almost like a video game."

"Except this one has real, deadly consequences."

"Right," Zim muttered and tapped on some screens.

"Twenty seconds."

"Rogue, kiss him so he'll shut up." Zim reached for the throttle. "At least I've played enough games to use a joystick. What if . . ." He pulled it down slowly, the train slowing from bullet speed. "Ah, there we go . . ."

"Thank You, God," Delaney whispered, stepping toward Garrett with a shuddering breath. He slumped into the seats as the train dropped out of warp and slowed.

Peering out the window, Garrett saw Frank's chopper and a few others now. "And here comes the cavalry." He stood, ducking to see better out the window as the train screeched to a stop. "I think we did it . . ." He laughed. Clapped Zim's shoulder. "Good job."

"Hey." Delaney shifted toward him. Touched his arm.

"Yeah?" He turned to her.

She pointed at the blood on his shirt. "You were shot. Are you okay?"

"Just a graze."

And she moved into his arms.

He stilled as her gentle brown eyes looked up into his, telegraphing exactly what she wanted. What he wanted. He caught her waist and snugged her into his hold. The citrus smell of her hair whirled into his nose. She tilted her head up at him, a full-hearted smile on her soft lips. A smile started across his own face. But he set his mouth to hers and kissed her. A long, deep one. One they both deserved, they'd both longed for. He crushed her to himself, and as he deepened the kiss, her arms hooked around his neck.

Hoots and claps sounded. "Get a room!"

Garrett broke off and grinned down at her, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Surge let out a moan-groan of protest.

"Hey," Garrett said, smiling down at the Malinois. "I think she has room for two operators in her life. One with two legs, one with four."

Surge huffed, then sneezed right in his face.