Page 84 of Secret Mission

His scowl turns to a smirk. He knew better, that fucker.

Justice is whistling when he strides away, melting into the row of cars adjacent to the now disabled company truck.

The parking lot is too exposed.

My skin crawls. It’s a sensation I’ve had many, many times in my career.

“We’re being watched. Keep your head down, babe," I murmur, scanning the perimeter while maintaining a hand on Allison's back to keep her folded over. “I haven't seen them yet. But my radar says someone is here.”

Now more than ever, I wish I had her in tactical armor. Not a stupid hospital gown. A cardboard shield would give her more protection.

Activating the new coms gear Justice gave me in the hospital, I hit him up. “Unlock the truck.”

He clicks the fob from somewhere. All the doors unlock with a quiet click. But the lights don’t flash, by design. All our team trucks have the lights disabled so we can unlock and lock them without being seen.

“Sit tight,” I tell Allison, as I shift around to the back of the truck. There isn’t much time to grab gear, but I get what I can reach without leaving her side.

By the time I’ve filled my pockets and a black backpack, Justice materializes beside a silver sedan three spaces over. The brim of his hat is pulled low.

He checks each handle. Casual. Skilled.

The car’s locked. But that won't stop him.

“I hear voices,” Allison whispers.

A group of nurses are coming from the hospital, their chatter carrying across the humid air.

After quickly closing the back of the truck, I angle the wheelchair to block their view of Justice.

"My stomach really hurts." Allison moans dramatically, playing her part. “I don’t know if I’ll ever eat again.”

"All right, sweetheart. I’ll just get you loaded up." I keep my voice gentle, like a concerned partner, while my eyes track movement at the far end of the lot.

Wait.

Neck tensing, I narrow my eyes.

A black SUV with tinted windows idles near the exit. It’s out of place. Sitting in a travel lane. The diplomatic plates are clearly visible even from a distance.

Fuck. This is what my radar was picking up.

This feels like the kind of trouble I don’t ever want when Allison is with me.

The nurses pass by, offering sympathetic glances. As soon as they're out of earshot, I lean down to whisper to her. "Company at six o'clock. Black SUV."

Allison tenses under my palm but maintains her hunched position.

My instinct is to throw her into the truck, even though it’s nearly immobilized. It’s possible to drive on rims, but risky. With the distance we need to cover, it’s a no go.

We could hole up in the hospital, but the security’s shit. So, it means we move out.

She whispers, “How many people?”

"Can't tell through the tint, but I'm not waiting to find out." I tap my comm. "Justice, we've got eyes on us. Need that ride now."

A soft click is his only response, followed by the purr of an engine starting.

"Show time." I grip the wheelchair handles tighter. "Ready to blow this joint?"