Page 92 of Secret Mission

The tunnel turns left, and Justice waves his red flashlight beam across a door. “This goes up to the market.”

“Are you sure it’s the right place?” I ask, intentionally avoiding Truck’s amused stares.

Justice makes a hungry sound as he speeds up. “Oh yeah, I can smell those things…”

An amazing scent hits me. Cinnamon and sugar. Caught in the air, drifting into the tunnel from somewhere above.

The teasing aroma draws me forward. “It smells like heaven. Oh, my goodness, are those the churro things that Vandemorians love?”

Justice’s long legs eat up the tunnel floor, his red flashlight beam ticking back and forth with his steps. “Yep. I’m putting my money on that's what it is.”

“I hope you guys actually have cash because not only do I not have any—” I laugh. “—I don’t have pants, an ID, a phone, or anything else normal.”

“We got you covered.” Truck loops his arm around my neck, pulling me in close until he’s speaking against my ear. “I’ll spot you, and you can repay me later.”

This sexual chemistry is definitely hitting new highs.

Our teasing is out in the open now. The space between his body and mine is only centimeters, but it’s as charged as a city power station.

I elbow him, and he chuckles.

“I’ll buy you anything you want, sweetheart. Happy wife, happy life.”

My feet suddenly tangle, my boots knocking together, and his laugh grows deeper.

I’m so busy choking on the wordwife, I don’t even realize the door ahead of us has swung open.

Justice reacts instantly.

His arms rise lightning fast, his weapon at the ready, pointing at the shadowy figure filling the door frame. But before I can tell what’s happening, he’s relaxing.

“What the hell?”

Truck lowers his own gun and pushes ahead of me. “Axle, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“You don’t want to go that way.” Pale as paper, dressed in blue hospital scrubs, Truck’s twin brother stumbles toward us. “Some bad guys are right behind me.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

And the hits keep on coming.

Justice slams the tunnel door, swinging a large deadbolt in place as I launch for Axle.

The calmness of the underground passage evaporated, replaced by the heavy staleness of a coffin.

"What kind of shit are you tangled up in?" I demand, supporting Axle's weight as we turn the other direction. The odds of running into my twin in this city are low, but when you’re both operatives, tunnels are a natural magnet.

Any operative worth his salt knows his escape routes.

"It wasn’t on purpose." His voice is strained. Blood seeps through his hospital scrubs, as his face pulls tight. "The company I work for has been compromised. Someone's selling secrets, and I uncovered it. That’s the reason I was in Vandemora, to put eyes on someone."

Justice has taken point, leading our small band of misfits, his weapon ready—low on ammo—but ready.

The pieces still don’t fit together, I prod for information. "Did they grab you out of the hospital?"

"Oh, no. That was all me." Axle grunts as his boot catches on an uneven tile. For a few seconds, he hisses in pain. When he starts to talk again, it’s harder for him to breathe.

"I… got… a message from a contact… and I knew I had to leave the hospital… Didn’t want them near you guys.” He takes a few deep breaths. “Allison didn't need to be… caught up in another clusterfuck."