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Interesting.Red going missing went up to the Situation Room? Not only had someone signed off on Delta Force pulling Grey out of the prison, but now they’d prioritized the secrets Redknew over her wellbeing. That meant the work she did was high stakes.
“I think a sea extraction is our fastest route,” Watts said.
“Grey, this is Nomad. We were told she was ill prior to the bombing.” The heat radiating off her body was alarming. Nomad’s medical training had to do with battle wounds and basic humanitarian interventions. This was way past his knowledge and the equipment he had available to keep her safe. He felt like Red could very easily slip away. He worked to keep the urgency out of his voice. “Do you know what was wrong? Did she tell you any symptoms?”
“Negative.” Grey paused. “She’s not coming around?” Yeah, his voice sounded like Nomad felt—vexed and frightened by an inability to fix this.
“I have nothing beyond she’s dangerously hot.” Odd that Nomad wanted a clear definition of Red’s relationship with Grey. Was this a worried teammate, or were they more to each other? Why would Nomad care? “She’s dehydrated, sir. We don’t have saline bags with us.”
“We’re moving,” T-Rex ended the discussion. “We’ll do what we can.”
“I’ll get that boat lined up. You get Red into your vehicle and aim for the coast.” Grey’s voice was thick with emotion when he added. “And thank you.”
Chapter Fifteen
Red
Dread was the weight moored to her chest, anchoring in her stomach. Red’s eyelids squeezed tightly shut to keep reality at bay. When she opened them, she’d have to deal with the cause of her anguish.
She could physically feel that her lids were shut. And yet, there she was, looking out across the park. Twitching her head this way and that, Red tried to get her bearings, yet the view didn’t change.
That was when Red realized she was asleep; this was a dream.
It was such an unusual occurrence.
Typically, when she put her head down, Red—physically or emotionally exhausted from her day—grabbed at sleep. Clung to it.
Sleep had always been an ally, healing and restoring her.
And when it was time to wake up, Red never used her alarm. She’d never had to. Red simply said to her brain what time worked with her schedule. “Tomorrow morning, I need to be up by six thirty. I want to lie in bed for ten minutes to organize my day.” And it worked. Red would become aware around six fifteen, blinking her eyes open by six twenty.
Sleep was reliable and dreamless.
She didn’t like this experience. Red was aware that she was lying in a bed, her body heavy, and a movie playing—not a movie unless she was an actor, right? That was what it felt like—like being on a movie scene and acting in some kind of improv.It was fiction, but the set, the other actors, and everything about this made her believe it was real.
I want to wake up now!
No, she didn’t like these sensations at all, and this wasn't a particularly useful dream. Red didn't really understand it.
The corners of her lips twitched with irritation.
Wake up! Open your eyes.
For some reason, Red had decided not to park her car where she always parked when she came here to this place.
What place?
It seemed familiar. It reminded her of school.
Was this one of those dreams she’d heard about where people forgot to study for an exam? Or the one where they forgot to show up to a class until the last day of the semester? Or maybe her clothes would disappear, and she’d walk into the lecture hall naked?
If this place wasn’t college, maybe it related to what she’d learned at The Farm?
Red processed with the part of the brain that stood to the side, watching events unfold. Why not just go with the dream and see what happened? Though it seemed like a whole lot of nothing, maybe her brain had something to tell her.
Red got out of the car and locked the doors. A woman, bending over to pick up a pair of eyeglasses from the ground, distracted her.
Another woman said, “Hey, those are mine. I guess they dropped when I fell. Give them back.” There was an accusation in the tone of her words that Red didn't like.