Page 95 of Deadly Strain

“And do what?” he asked. “We don’t know if our situation has changed.”

“We brought enough aviation fuel to get your helicopter to Bostick. So get going and call on the way. If General Stone has been there a couple of hours already, that arrest order has been rescinded.”

“Jamal?” Falcon said to CIA. Only his name.

“Officially, the arrest order is gone, but unofficially—” CIA looked at Grace “—there’s still a price for her.”

Max’s eyebrow went up. “Interesting.”

“That’s not what I’d call it,” Sharp growled, still staring at her like it was all her fault.

“Stop staring at me like I’m some sort of evil genius. I didn’t ask for all this.”

“Sharpshooter,” Max barked.

Sharp responded, “Yes, sir.”

“Stop arguing and start moving. You and the men you choose to take with you, along with Grace, have two objectives. One, warn General Stone. He and the base are the most likely targets of our bug baker. Two, find the damn cook and kill him.”

Sharp smiled a shark’s smile. “Yes, sir.” That grin died as he glanced at Grace. “Sir, about Grace—”

“She goes with you. Not negotiable. You may need her, and we both shouldn’t be in the same place in case things go...bad here.”

“Understood.”

“Grace, I left some oral antibiotics for you on your pack.”

“Wonderful. I hate IVs.” She got up and went to the alcove where her pack rested and found the pills.

Movement behind her caught her attention.

Sharp crouched in front of her. “I’ll take your IV out.”

She held out her arm silently, and he pulled the plastic catheter out of the vein on the back of her hand. His thumb pressed a piece of gauze down on her tender flesh, then he put a Band-Aid over it to hold it in place.

“Let’s see your leg.” His tone allowed for no argument.

She silently pulled off her pants. Again. “I should have listened to my grandmother,” she muttered. “She always told me to stash a clean pair of underwear in one of my pockets in case shit hits the fan.”

“Really?”

“She was a WASP, an Air Force service pilot during World War Two. It’s how she met my granddad. She’d be disappointed in my lack of preparedness. But it’s not like I’ve had time to change my underwear, and far too many people have seen...mine.”

He leaned close and said quietly, “The only people who’ve seen your underwear are Max, me, and our guys, and they were very careful not to look.”

She froze and slowly met his gaze.

His grin was pure sin. “I’m becoming enamored with the color pink.”

“Isn’t that against the Special Forces soldier rules?”

“Not when that’s the color of your girl’s panties.”

“Your girl?”

His grin got wider and he said, “Let’s see those stitches.”

She slid her pants down and exposed the wound.