Even kiss her.
Yeah, shoot,he’d been harboring that version of their reunion for the last seventy-two hours.
Clearly, relief was not the same as“Oh Steinbeck, I’ve missed you so much.”This was an op, one still very much in peril.
Still, he grabbed her hand, put it on his belt behind him, and said, “Hold on.It’s dark.”
“That’s a newsflash.”
Ah, the woman was coming back to herself.He headed down the tunnel toward the entrance, some thirty feet away.
“I don’t understand—how did?—”
“No.You first.What happened in Cuba?”Because he’d woken up too many times over the past month with her words—“I’ll be right behind you”—in his head.Words that he’d let himself believe.And then he’d spend the rest of the night wrestling away thewhat-ifsandplease, no’sof the terror that he imagined befell her.
“The scooter wouldn’t start, and the cops caught up to me on foot.”
He felt her hand on his belt.If she let go, even once, he was taking her hand.
“They didn’t even bother to take me to the Cuban police, though, so I’m not sure they were official cops.I ended up locked in the guest room of the home of a government official.”
“The guy from the consulate?”
“No, someone else.Cuban.With Russian friends.They were after the program.”Her voice dropped a little then, and even as he kept them moving, his light dragging over the rutted, scarred rocky surface, his chest tightened.He didn’t want to ask?—
“They didn’t hurt me.”
He couldn’t speak.
“Much.”
He credited himself for not stopping, not turning and giving in to the urge to again pull her to himself.Never let go.
And okay, maybe that was overstated, but he was tired, cold, grimy, and lacking sleep.
“Where is the program?”
“You were there.It drowned.”
He did stop then.“Seriously?”
“Keep going, and yes.I didn’t get a chance to upload it—I know, stupid, but this entire op has been a comedy of chaos.I’m back to zero.They put me on a boat; I swiped a cell phone with low battery and got a message out.Bam, your turn.What happened after you got away?I heard—” Her voice hitched then.
Interesting.
“They said the yacht blew up.”
Who wasthey?But he just nodded, then, “Tactical error.The Russians hadn’t left the ship, so we had a small shootout on the boat.Dec and I disembarked into the cool waters of the gulf.”
She snorted.“Pre-explosion.”
“Sort of.And to be clear, I looked for you in Cuba.Good job with the message.Jack, my brother, got it and asked me about it, and I knew it was from you.Clever, giving me the IMO number.”
“Clever, you figuring it out.”
With that, the old dance, a sort of camaraderie, settled into his bones.
They just might make it out of here.
