Page 14 of Gamma

“You sure did. And now you have to trust me.” I soften my voice. “Plus, you trust Anselm and Duke, right? I’ll be with them.”

A long groan of resignation. “No unnecessary risks. Listen to them. Think each move through a dozen times before you act. And most of all, if it comes to it, god forbid, and you find yourself faced with the decision to pull the trigger, you can’t hesitate. But be absolutely sure before you do, because that’s not something you can take back.”

“I love you, Daddy.”

“Love you too, Rinna. Be safe,please.”

“I will.” I glance forward at Harris, who taps his wrist, and then points at the ground. “We’re at the airfield now, so I have to go.”

“Stay in contact.”

“I will as I can.”

“Bye, honey.”

“Bye, Daddy.” I hear the click as the line goes dead.

My stomach lurches as Harris flares the helo a few feet above the ground, and then we’re touching down.

Harris idles the helo, looking back at me as he does so. “Not too late, Rin.”

“It was too late the moment Apollo got out of the car, Uncle Harris, and you and I both know it.”

He nods. “Nothing to say that hasn’t been said, so…good luck and be safe.”

“The rest of you are working from here, right?”

“Of course. And the moment we find something actionable, we’ll move on it. You three are the initial recon. The tip of the spear, if you will.” He holds my gaze. “You’re going in as an honorary member of A1S, and as such, I expect you to behave like one. Meaning, Anselm and Duke are in charge and you’re the new guy. Don’t be rash or impulsive, and don’t let your emotions goad you into mistakes.”

“I thought you said there wasn’t anything to say that hadn’t been said?” I ask, smirking.

He arches an eyebrow at me. “Don’t sass me, child. You want to run with the big dogs, I’ll treat you like one.”

“Fair enough.”

He reaches into a pocket and produces a small, sleek phone. “Satellite phone. It’s encrypted end to end and has numbers for everyone you need to contact programmed into it. It’s the latest and greatest in secure communications technology.”

I accept it, examine it, pocket it. “Thanks, Uncle Harry.”

“Thank me when you come back alive.”

I recognize his flat, cold delivery: he’s upset with me, and worried about me, and deflecting. “I’ll be okay.”

“Until you’re not.”

“Uncle Harris. Come on.”

He sighs, softens ever so slightly. “Just be careful, Rin. You won’t do Apollo or Yelena any good if you get hurt or killed.”

I open the door and Duke is there, all six feet six inches of him, bulky and massive and intimidating, grabbing me by the waist and lifting me from the helo to the ground.

“Don’t let anything happen to my niece, Duke!” Harris yells over the roar of the rotor.

Duke sends me into a jog away from the aircraft with a shove of his hand. “She’s my niece too!” he yells back, and then jogs after me.

Up into the interior of a long, low, sleek jet, a supersonic private jet designed by my dad’s firm. It can get from New York to London in under two and a half hours, and from New York to Paris in just under three. That’s if you’re worried about keeping your passengers comfortable. At max speed, it can make the trip in far less.

The jet is already idling, the engines whining, straining. Anselm is already aboard, buckled into one of the high-G chairs. Duke guides me to another and straps me in, tightening buckles and double-checking them.