Tasha and the Griffins hid under a fallen tree, watching as the inflatable rumbled up onto the bank beside their little boat. The four men stepped out. Kelli squeaked in fright as one of then sprayed their boat with hot lead, filling it full of holes and wrecking the engine. Tasha pursed her lips. So much for Dan’s plan. She held the pistol close. It was primed and ready. She only had two shots, one for Ed, the other Kelli, but she wouldn’t let herself be taken alive. She’d rather die in a hail of bullets than be captured and tortured.

Three of the men moved off into the jungle.

“Move your old asses.” Dan’s voice came from far away. “This way. Hurry!”

The smart play now would be to shoot the remaining guard and try to make their getaway in their boat, but she was afraid the bark of her weapon would bring back the three gunmen, and she wasn’t leaving Dan. Not while there was a chance he could make it back. This is what he did. Escape and evade. If he’d could dodge the Mexican cartel for five days, he could surely outwit these three men long enough to get back to her. She would risk herself, the Griffins, the entire world to give him a chance to survive.

It had been drilled into her during her training that the mission was the priority. She was expendable. The asset was expendable. The only concern was the completion of the mission.

She had her orders, and she would carry them out. She understood when Dan said he couldn’t do it, and it hadn’t surprised her. His training was to save lives, not take them. But none of that was an excuse for pulling her weapon on him. He’d stood in front of her, the fear plainly etched on his face, but he’d made no move to defend himself. She didn’t want to kill him, but she had her orders. She had no choice but to execute them. As she held her sidearm on him, she could see that he would never allow her to pass and would force her to kill him. She thought she was prepared to do that, but she couldn’t.

She’d never killed anyone until the whore in her room. She was fully prepared to shoot Simon in their cabin if she’d had to. She had no remorse over killing those four men holding the Griffins hostage. She hadn’t enjoyed the killing, but the mission required it. Holding his gaze, she knew she couldn’t kill Dan. She simply couldn’t. Even to potentially save a billion people, she couldn’t do it.

She’d expected him to reject her, but he’d offered her comfort and understanding. She couldn’t accept it. She didn’t deserve it. Why hadn’t he killed her when she dropped her weapon? He was certainly capable of doing so. Why had he given her back her weapon? For that matter, why had he held her until she cried herself to sleep? Why was he forgiving her? When she’d drawn her weapon in their boat, he clearly knew what she was thinking. Why did he suddenly trust her to not shoot Ed and Kelli? Why, after everything she’d done, had he left her the means to do so?

A gun cracked in the distance and she jumped. It was a pistol round, a single shot with no return fire from the automatic weapon. She prayed that meant what she hoped it meant. She scooted further down behind the log to where the Griffins cowered.

“Listen to me,” she said, her voice almost inaudible. “I’m going to try to take out the guard. If you hear a gunshot from over there,” she whispered, jerking her head in the general direction of the inflatable, “immediately take this gun, kill the guard, and make a run for it. You’ve only got two shots, so make them count. Got it?” She pressed the weapon to Ed’s hand. The two looked at her with wide, fearful eyes, and Kelli nodded. “Good. Stay hidden. I’ll come for you.”

She backed away and crept down the bank, moving upstream of the skiff so the current could carry her silently to her victim. She was taking a hell of a risk. If she were killed and the Griffins weren’t successful in escaping, she and Dan would be dead for nothing, and worse, she’d be putting the entire population of the world at risk. But she had to try, and she wouldn’t betray Dan again.

After creeping fifty yards or so upstream, she moved carefully to the water’s edge. She paused and removed her pants, shoes, and shirt to leave only her bra and panties. She didn’t want to be weighed down in the water.

She waded in and allowed the current to carry her back to the boat, staying as low in the water as possible. As she approached the skiff, she heard another pistol shot followed by a brief chatter of automatic gun fire. Her blood ran cold. Even if he wasn’t hit by the return fire, there was still another man looking for him, and he was out of ammunition.

The river shallowed gradually, and by the time she reached the craft, the water was no longer deep enough for swimming. Grimacing, she dragged herself along in the mud, moving as slowly and carefully as possible to avoid making a sound.

The man was sitting on the edge of the boat, his weapon lying across his knees as he watched the trees. Swallowing hard to summon her courage, she exploded out of the water, grabbed him around the neck from behind, and dragged him backwards off the inflatable.

They went into the water with a splash, the automatic weapon falling into the boat. She had him in a good hold, his back into her chest, but he was hellishly strong and pulled down hard on her arm to prevent her from cutting off the blood to his brain and causing him to pass out. The water roiled, becoming orange with mud as they thrashed and struggled in the shallows of the river. They were locked in mortal combat. The man couldn’t escape, but she couldn’t finish him, and they both knew only one of them would survive this encounter. He clawed at her face with his free hand, finally grabbing a handful of her hair.

She bit off the scream of pain as he hauled down on her hair, pulling her head around. She released him. He rolled off her, still holding her hair as he staggered to his feet.

“You fucking bitch. I’ll kill you.”

She wanted to shriek again, feeling like her hair was being ripped from her scalp. He drew his fist back. Before he could deliver the blow, she punched at his throat. Her blow was weak but it worked. The man gagged and stumbled backward, his eyes bulging as he grabbed at his throat. Free from his grasp, she turned for the boat, going for the gun.

She’d just reached the craft and grabbed for the weapon when he hit her. The air in her lungs woofed out as he drove her into the side of the craft, the inflatable bladder giving a bit under the impact. They bounced off the boat and back into the water. It was only inches deep, and the sucking mud slowed him as he turned for the skiff. She rolled to her back and kicked out strongly. She caught him on the hip. Her kick didn’t do any damage, but it did cause him to fall.

She struggled against the mud as they tried to get to their feet. She was in a literal fight to the death and whichever of them regained their feet first would have an advantage. She was slightly quicker to her feet than he was. She again kicked out strongly, spinning on her other foot. This time her foot connected solidly with the man’s stomach. She went down again, the mud preventing her from keeping her footing, but she was much quicker to her feet this time. Recognizing her opportunity, she leapt for the rifle. She heard the splashes as he came for her, but he was a fraction too slow. She grabbed the gun from the bottom of the boat, pivoted to meet her attacker, and drove the butt of the gun straight into his face.

His face exploded in a shower of blood as he staggered back and fell with a splash. She flipped the gun around, charged it, and pointed it at the downed man. He wasn’t out, but his movements were slow and feeble as he tried to rise. She flipped the gun around again, and drove the stock into his face twice more as hard as she could, not wanting to raise the alarm by firing the weapon.

She stood over the man, panting hard, waiting to see if he moved. He didn’t. She staggered back and stared at the sky a moment. She was scratched up and covered in mud, one of her breasts was hanging out, and her panties were twisted painfully around, but she’d survived. She drove the butt of the gun into the man’s ruined face one more time for good measure.

“Don’t move,” she growled. Bond could have probably come up with something much wittier, but that was the best she could do.

She put herself back together as much as she could and then stumbled up the bank toward the hide that concealed the Griffins. When she knew they could see, she waved her hand.

“Come on!”

The appeared. “Goodness, child, are you okay?” Kelli asked.

“I’ve been better. Get into the boat. I’m getting my clothes then we’re pushing off.”

“What about the man? Are we leaving him?”

She couldn’t help but smile. “No way in hell.”

Carrying the rifle, she located her clothes, struggled into them, then returned to the boat. She pushed it off and climbed aboard. She moved to the operator’s position and studied the controls a moment. She’d never driven a boat before, but it seemed self-explanatory. She twisted the key and the large motor on the back rumbled to life. She pulled the smaller lever marked Forward and Reverse into the reverse position and eased the larger handle forward. The motor slowly revved, and she spun the wheel as the boat backed into the river.

They sat in the river for ten minutes, Tasha feathering the throttle to hold their position. If anyone but Dan appeared, they were gone. After an eternity, Dan lurched out of the trees carrying a rifle. Her heart felt as if it would explode as she spun the wheel hard and jammed the throttle to the stop, the craft roaring as it leapt for the bank. She ran the boat hard aground and clambered out as fast as she could, throwing herself into his arms. They tumbled to the ground, but she didn’t care as she covered him with kisses.

He was beat to hell. He was covered in welts, scratches, dirt and debris, and he had a nasty looking cut above his left eye, a bruise forming on his right cheek, and his shirt had been ripped, but no man had ever been more beautiful to her.

“I told you to leave,” he whispered into her ear as he pulled her to him and held her tight.

“If you thought I’d leave, why’d you come back?” she whimpered.

He held her a moment longer, his embrace tightening even more as she held him with all her strength before he released her. “We have to go.”

She wiped her eyes as she pulled back. “I know.”

“Why are you crying?”

She blubbered out a laugh. “You squeezed the tears out of me.”

She helped him to his feet. She bit her lip as he limped toward the boat. He wasn’t moving so good. They pushed off from the bank, and he climbed stiffly aboard. He looked at the body floating in the water and then at her but said nothing.

“You drive,” he said as he sat down in the bottom of the boat, his face twisting in pain.

She returned to the operator’s position. She restarted the motor and backed away before switching to forward, spun the wheel, and opened the taps on the motor. The boat powered away, skimming quickly over the surface of the river. It was far faster than the boat they’d stolen, or the Hangula Queen, so if they didn’t run out of fuel they’d be in Talish in no time.

After a time, she pulled the throttle back and the boat slowed. She pulled her phone and dialed. “Lancaster.”

“Standby.”

“Tasha? What’s your situation?” Whittlefield asked.

“We have the Griffins and the lab is completely destroyed. We need an evac from Talish.”

“When?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. We are on our way back to Talish now, but I don’t know our location or how long it will take us to get there. Can’t you have a plane standing by?”

“You know the U.S. has lost landing privileges? I’ll have to work something out. Give me a few hours.”

“Goddammit, Director! Our asses are really hanging out here. We need that fucking evac.”

“I know, Tasha, I know. General Kangka is making noises and Minbitu is under attack. Give me a few hours.”

“A few hours? Why wasn’t this already in play?” she yelled.

When she got back to Fort Meade—if she got back—she would kick several somebodies in the ass. If the NSA was going to run assets, then they needed to get their shit together in a big way or give the teams to the CIA. At least the CIA knew how to take care of its people, unlike those fucking pencil pushers at the NSA.

“Contact me when you get to Talish. I’ll give you the evac details then.”

“Fine,” she barked and ended the call. “Those bastards. They don’t know shit about running assets in the field. I’ll run every one of their dicks through the pencil sharpener when I get back!”

The Griffins looked at her with wide eyes until Dan began to splutter and laugh. “That’s my girl!”

She slammed the throttle open again, so mad she wanted to kill someone. There would be hell to pay when she got back.

Tulsi, report, the radio squawked.

Dan got to his feet to stand beside her, but he didn’t touch the radio.

Tulsi, report. Did you locate them? Tulsi, report.

“Shit,” Dan muttered as he picked up the mic. “This is Tulsi. We chased them into the bush but lost them.”

Who is this?

“Fuck! I knew that wouldn’t work.” He waited, but there was no more radio chatter. “They know we’re listening. They’ll be coming for us.”

“What do we do? Make a run for it?”

She watched as Dan licked his lips. “No. They know where we headed.”

“Dan, Talish is the only possible place we can get an evac.”

“I know. But they know we’re on the river. We have to find another way.”

“How?”

He punched at the GPS a moment, selecting the Go Home button. A red dot appeared behind them and down a tributary. He pointed.

“Are you shitting me? Go to them?”

He smiled. “Yeah. Where’s the last place they’ll think to look?”

She stared at him for a long moment, then spun the wheel, the boat skipping and skidding as it banked around hard. “You’re crazy as shit, but I love you anyway.”