Page 59 of Tag (The Golden Team #9)

Aponi

T he drive sat on the table between us like it could explode at any second.

We were in one of the Golden Team’s satellite safehouses—quiet, nondescript, and hidden deep in the desert. The kind of place that made the world outside feel a thousand miles away.

But I knew better. Graves was out there, and he’d feel us breathing down his neck the second Intel touched this drive.

Tag leaned forward, forearms braced on the table, his eyes locked on the small piece of metal and plastic. “Intel team’s en route. As soon as they’ve got it, we’ll know where Graves is hiding.”

“And if we don’t?” I asked, my voice quieter than I meant.

His gaze slid to me—sharp, assessing, like he could read the thoughts I was trying to bury. “Then we keep looking. We don’t stop until he’s done.”

I hated the thought of Graves slipping away again, disappearing into the shadows like smoke through fingers. But what I hated more was the look in Tag’s eyes. Controlled. Focused. Hiding the storm he didn’t want me to see.

The sound of the door opening pulled my attention. Gideon stepped in, followed by a tall woman in civilian clothes with an agency badge clipped to her belt. She didn’t waste time. “I’m taking the drive. My team’s ready to run it through every system we’ve got.”

Tag passed it over without a word.

She slid it into a padded case, sealing it tight. “If there’s a trace on this thing, Graves will know someone’s poking around in his files. You’d better be ready for him to move—fast.”

Tag gave a humorless smile. “We’re counting on it.”

When she left, the room felt smaller, heavier. I sank into the chair across from Tag, studying him. “You think Graves will come for us before we get to him.”

“Not think,” Tag said. “Know.”

The way he said it—calm, certain—sent a shiver down my spine. And somewhere deep in my gut, I knew he wasn’t afraid of it.

He was waiting for it.