Page 102 of Secrets Along the Shore

“I never said he was, but I think you think he is.”

“I don’t.” Gage swiped a hand over his face. “I just don’t want him to turn out to be.”

Yvonne almost smiled at the admission. Nothing Tyler had done gave Gage reason to hate him. The bad memories kept Gage having flashbacks to the mission gone wrong, and he couldn’t help imagining the same with their young new guy. She met Gage’s gaze. “Then let’s try to make sure he’s not.”

June 9

4:01 a.m., Vukovar, Croatia

The soft soundof Elara’s and Rian’s deep breathing filled the van. They’d both been too exhausted to stay awake, so Tyler had told them to spread out the tarp in the back and he’d keep watch. He’d gotten used to not sleeping much while working, so he’d be fine until they left Vukovar.

Tyler monitored the road and the buildings on the other side. Everything remained silent. Too quiet. The stores and other businesses would stay locked up for another few hours, but the lack of traffic bothered him. They’d been sitting here for two hours, and a single vehicle hadn’t driven by. The Rukas wouldn’t have stopped looking, and Tyler had only taken his targets about eight blocks from where they’d crashed.

He rested his arms over the steering wheel. “So where are they?” he muttered.

Maybe they were planning an ambush, but it’d be a waste of time. There was only one way out of the alley if one didn’t count the back doors on the shops on either side. The Rukas had plenty of forces and didn’t need much time to plan anything.

He glanced at where Elara and Rian lay in the shadows of the back. The tarp covered the dirt and dust, but didn’t provide a soft sleeping area. They didn’t seem to care though. Absolute exhaustion tended to do that. Soon they’d sleep in a soft bed again in the safety of Koen’s home. Where they belonged.

Tyler’s SAT phone vibrated on the console. He held it up and frowned at the number he didn’t recognize. Maybe one of Von’s guys. He answered it. “Who’s this?”

“Coyote. Tell us your location, we’re in the city. The plane should already be on the ground waiting for us.”

Coyote? That had to be his callsign. The man also didn’t sound the least bit Croatian, so he wasn’t one of Viktor’s guys. Tyler gave him the name of the shop across the street.

“Hang tight. We’ll be there in five,” the mercenary hung up.

Tyler set the phone aside and turned in his seat. “Elara?”

She shifted and muttered something incoherent. Her arm tightened around Rian.

“Elara, you gotta get up.” He spoke above a whisper, but not quite in a conversational tone. She needed to be awake and ready the second the vehicles pulled up. They might have a rough ride to the airport, depending on whether Viktor’s men showed up.

She shifted upright, moving one hand to her head.

“You good?” he asked. Even if she wasn’t, she shouldn’t have to run anymore, just sit tight until they made it to the airport.

“Yeah. The floor just isn’t very soft.” She touched Rian’s shoulder. “C’mon, Rian. We gotta get up.” She pressed a kiss to his head as he stirred.

“Are we home yet?” Rian rubbed his eyes. Poor kid.

“Not yet. We’ll be there soon.” Elara licked her lips. They were probably dry. All of them were a little dehydrated. They hadn’tgrabbed the supplies Tyler bought from the car after they wrecked. It’d be fine though. Coyote should have water with him and his guys to help take care of their targets.

Tyler glanced around again. He didn’t want any vehicles to pull in front of the alley. That’d trap them. He grabbed his M4 from the floorboard on the passenger side and opened his door. “Stay here.”

Elara nodded as she sat behind the passenger seat.

He exited the vehicle and headed over to the sidewalk, stopping beside the corner of the building. Engines rumbled nearby. Several blocks down, three SUVs headed their direction. He pressed his shoulder against the wall as he eyed the vehicles. They drove differently. Like they were heavy. And Von’s vehicles were since she’d had them armored.

They rolled to a stop in front of the alley. The passenger door of the first one opened. A black man stepped out and held out his hand.

“Coyote?” Tyler shook his hand.

“Kayode. Kayode Atkintola,” the man corrected. He almost sounded American, but also not. Maybe Nigerian?

“Tyler Reid.”

“Yeah, I know.” Kayode grinned and pulled his Beretta. “They’re in the van?” He inclined his head at the broken-down vehicle.