Page 146 of Girl Between (Dana Gray FBI Mystery Thriller #5)

Jake blinked his eyes rapidly, not believing them at first. But there was no denying what he saw. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, his chest swelling with hope and admiration as he pointed up. “Look.”

George followed Jake’s gaze and gaped in astonishment. “Is that what I think it is?”

“I love the feel of grass beneath my toes.”

“A little different than musty library carpet, huh?”

“I wasn’t always a librarian,” she countered. “I grew up in West Virginia”.

Jake had pictured it then—a young Dana Gray, wind ruffling her untamed hair as she explored the wild like all kids should .

“What was that like?”

“Fun, adventurous. My dad used to take me camping .” A wistful look passed across her face. “We had a red tent. ”

“What else?”

“I remember this one time it stormed. I was scared, but he told me we’d be okay as long as we had a flashlight. He taught me Morse code. I was so intrigued I forgot all about the storm.”

“Smart man, your dad.”

“Yeah,” Dana agreed, that same reflective joy in her eyes. “He was.”

“Morse code has saved my ass a time or two.”

“In the Army?”

“Yeah.”

“And you still remember it?”

“Do you?”

“And here I thought you knew me?” she teased.

“Alright, brainiac,” he said, swooping her into a dip that filled the air with the cascading sound of her laughter.

The memory flashed through Jake’s mind as quickly as the repetitive dot-dot-dot-dash of the light nineteen floors above him.

Jake was done waiting. The flashing light of Morse code was more than enough to prove what he already knew. “It’s Dana. We move, now!”

Tap, signal, clear, move.

Tap, signal, clear, move.

Jake’s Army days were behind him, but this was like riding a bike. Especially with George on his six.

Their team moved efficiently through the dilapidated building.

The skeletal structure was reminiscent of the remote war-torn regions where Jake had run countless infill missions.

He'd never seen such deplorable conditions stateside. It made him grateful for Creed’s overzealous planning.

The night vision and tactical gear he’d procured from SWAT immensely aided in the swiftness with which they moved from floor to floor inside the crumbling building .

“Heat signatures two floors above,” said George when they reached the next stairwell.

Jake referenced the building schematic on the field tablet Creed provided. “That’s eighteen. SOS came from nineteen.”

“What’s the play?” asked George.

“Take the team and secure eighteen,” Jake ordered. “I’ll take nineteen. Rendezvous at rally point.”

“Roger that.” George gave the signal, and the rest of the team moved out, leaving Jake to go the rest of the way alone.

Splitting up during a mission was never Jake’s first choice, but with Dana in danger two floors above him, rolling the dice with his safety didn’t even register. Nothing was going to stop Jake from answering Dana’s distress call.