Page 100 of Crosscurrent

“This way.” Cara touched her arm, leading her toward the truck’s hiding place.

Down the road the gray sedan's door opened. Bennion froze, but Cara urged her on. “It’s okay. Our guy will handle him. Besides, we need him to see you leave. It’s part of the plan.”

The woman’s lips pressed into a straight line, but she kept walking.

The Neptune plant got one boot on the road before Wade reached him. The engagement was brief, and mostly quiet. The man went down and stayed down.

Bennion stopped, watching. "He's good."

"He's more than good. Come on." Cara steered her toward the bend. Behind them the house stayed lit, the lamp burning, a shadow crossing the blinds on its loop, the whole place breathing for a crew that might never come.

"That man’ll call this in the instant he wakes up," Bennion said. "You know what you just brought down on yourselves?"

"We're counting on it." Cara kept her moving. "I'll lay it out on the way."

Wade was two steps back. He held the door for them, then swung into the passenger seat. "Hit it."

Gabe pushed the truck hard out of town, easing off only once the cypress closed dark around the road. Cara let herself feel it for one mile, the way you let yourself look at the sun for a second before it costs you. Every name in Ray's book, fifty-three, moved or sitting in this truck.

"Fifty-three for fifty-three," she said. Out loud. Once.

Barrett had given them time enough to get Bennion to the camp, warn the others, and be gone before Cartwright's wheels ever turned.

In the back, Reagan counted Bennion's pulse off her wrist. Bennion let her, eyes on the back of Cara's head. "So lay it out."

Cara gave her the short version, explaining how Skye realized Ray’s network was close to falling into Neptune’s hands, and what the team had done to get Ray’s people to safety, ending with her. "We've got a place to put you while we finish this. Quiet, off any map Neptune owns. When it's done, we make you gone for good. New name, new paper. You'll never have to stand behind a door like that again."

The woman was quiet for a moment. "No."

Cara turned in her seat.

"I've disappeared twice. Both times Ray's people did it for me while I sat in a safe house and let braver folks fight what was hunting me." She slid the go-bag off her lap and onto the floor. "I know how these people think. What they're afraid of." Her chin came up. "I'm not waiting out one more war behind a locked door. I'm in."

And there in the back seat was the shape of Cara's own life, a woman alone, running, done being saved. No argument would change that. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"You don't strike me as somebody who changes her mind. And we're short on people who aren't scared of Neptune."

In the driver’s seat, Gabe activated his comlink. "Home base, road team, on schedule."

Cara winced at the static that fed back.

He said it again, slower. Nothing came back but the hiss of dead air.

Her pulse quickened.

Wade grunted. "Backup channel."

Cara was already reaching for the burner phone Tom had pressed into her hand on the way out the door. Nothing. No texts or calls.

Reagan had her phone out. "I’ll call Tom." She put it to her ear, and Cara watched her face wait, watched it not change, which was worse than changing.

"Voicemail," Reagan said.

The burner buzzed in Cara’s hand. The ID Barrett had given them glowed on the screen. "It's Barrett," she announced. “Voicemail.” The knowledge did nothing to tamp down her growing panic.

She put the message on speaker. "She found the camp. She's there now, and she's got your people. All of them, the professor included." His voice came over the line, low and quiet yet full of urgency. "Whatever you're about to do, slow down and think it through first."