Thwang.
The point of impact was higher, the bullet ricocheting dangerously close to the window. They all ducked down a little lower in the vehicle, covering as best they could. Marc had joined Victoria in physically providing cover to An-mei.
Lizzy took one more shot. “All targets eliminated.”
His team rode in grim silence as they crept along. All of them would end up under medical surveillance once they got home. The blast had been enough to shake every one of their brains inside their skulls, and even if they thought they had green status to get up on their own power and get the hell out, they’d need to spend the next several days letting their minds physically recover from the blast trauma.
They’d been damned lucky.
But the sticking point was one he needed to figure out: with Jewel, a person didn’t get lucky more than once. Even the chances of surviving her toys once were minuscule. He’d survived, what? Three times. Something was off.
As they hit a main road, they picked up speed finally. Gabe had started to report in when the ground under the vehicles shook enough to make them slow again.
“Holy shit.” Marc let out the curse as he braced An-mei’s still-inert body against him.
Dust clouds rose up over the trees in the direction they’d come. The base was going down in a series of explosions.
“Keep driving.” Gabe gave the order. “Let’s get clear in case there’s more to come.”
“Damage is limited to the core facility,” Harte’s voice reported over the comm. “Perimeter damage limited. You should be clear. Status?”
Gabe cleared his throat. “Clear and headed to next checkpoint. One Delta, withdraw and meet us there.”
“Roger that, Diaz. Satellites show enemy pursuit has veered off and your path is clear. Travel safe.” Harte’s acknowledgment was damned cheerful. “Your girl is awake and looking forward to seeing you.”
Was she there? Listening? He couldn’t think of something clever to say. The words he had for her were for her alone, not two crazy squadrons of mercenaries and a boss who’d never stop ragging him for it.
But if she was listening...
To hell with it. If he’d learned anything from her, it was to speak his mind. And his heart. Or he’d keep on regretting his entire life. “We’re coming home, cora??o.”
“Right here, waiting.” Maylin’s sweet voice came across the comm, low and trembling. “Thank you, all of you. Travel safe.”
Every one of the men and women in his vehicle had shit-eating grins plastered across their faces.
He studied An-mei, propped up now between Victoria and Marc but kept low enough to protect her from possible injury if they came under fire again. A possibility if they had any other delay to their exit. They were likely in the clear, but it was better to be sure. None of them would relax until they were safely back on Centurion Corporation land.
“How is she?” No more broadcasting until the next check point. This was just with his team. He hoped the girl was okay.
“Still out cold.” Marc shrugged and An-mei’s head tipped against his shoulder. “Pretty sure she passed out before we even flipped.”
Actually the best they could hope for. Unconscious and limp, her unresisting body was least likely to have taken damage.
“No visible signs of injury.” Victoria had a hold of the girl’s wrist. “Vital signs are all there. Didn’t find any broken bones once we got her clear back there. No bleeding. I honestly think it’s simple exhaustion, but we’ll know more once we make the next checkpoint and Delta team has a chance to take a more thorough look.”
“They’ve got field diagnostic gear on the copter.” More than An-mei would need the Delta team’s medical expertise. Once they arrived at the checkpoint, Gabe would make the tough decisions to prioritize the injuries. If An-mei was just unconscious, he had other team members in greater need of attention. Broken or bleeding trumped even damsels in distress.
Looking at her, she appeared to be sleeping. Hopefully a good sign.
The family resemblance was clear. An-mei shared Maylin’s delicate bone structure and incredibly fine hair. He’d gotten a good look at the same brilliant green eyes when they’d first found her too. But An-mei was shorter and lighter, somehow more fragile with a paler complexion. He didn’t think it was only from her time in captivity. The younger sister had a sort of waif quality to her. Breakable.
The last person he’d been sent to save had been a physically fit man. Worn down from days of captivity, but so much more able-bodied. Or so Gabe had thought. His mistake. Sound of body didn’t help much if a person wasn’t sound of mind, and the man had been a babbling, panic-ridden mess.