Eighteen hours. It took Lynn eighteen hours to make an excuse to hide in the back of the munitions truck and signal to Pablo to follow discretely. There was no need to have everyone in their business.

Cypher stopped at another car lot to collect some wheels with John just outside of West Yellowstone, Idaho, near the Wyoming state border and Yellowstone National Park. Iona-29 hedged HWY20, but they wanted to scavenge Pablo’s medical provisions first. Six took a pair of soldiers to scavenge for them.

Lynn tossed the crutches into the truck and carefully climbed in. In the last few days, she patted herself on the back for adjusting so quickly to working with a limp. It sucked, but she knew in a few weeks the boot would just be a bad memory. Stretching her back, limbering up, and popping her neck, she didn’t notice the dip in weight. She grinned to herself. No way Pablo could prepare for the wild ride he—

Arms curved around Lynn’s waist. His soft lips kissed the tension from her shoulders, and her breath left on a sigh. Tilting her head to give him more access to her skin, she mused, “Better be careful sneaking up on me like that.”

Against Lynn’s ear, Pablo purred, “I know. You’re a very dangerous woman.” His palms, fingers spread, glided up her sides from her hips to her waist and stopped bordering on the edge of her breasts. “So strong. So capable.”

The proximity, the temptation for more, forced Lynn’s eyes closed, and her breath left in a rush. She almost lost focus on her balance as her arms encircled Pablo’s neck behind to steady her.

Pablo kissed Lynn’s jawline, and she turned to meet his eyes. Poised like his hands, a breath away. He said, “I’ve come for my education on divinity, Lynn, now that I finally have her in my arms.”

Smooth. Pablo took her lips with his, exploring. Lynn wished they had more time, but, like privacy, time was scarce in this world. His hands relaxed, eliciting a moan from her as Pablo brushed his fingertip across the tantalized skin beneath her bra. She had returned the sound into his lips when the first automatic gunfire blazed in the distance.

They broke away, and Pablo cursed, “Damn it!”

Still dizzy from their heady encounter, Lynn agreed with a groan.

It didn’t take long for the haze to clear as more gunfire rained closer. Lynn rushed to the gun case and took out two M16s and some magazines. She inserted one into each gun and tossed the spare to Pablo.

The walkies on their belts crackled then. “Pride, this is Cypher. Over.”

Six acknowledged him from a nearby truck.

More gunshots. Then Pablo and Lynn braced themselves as an explosion reverberated through the valley of abandoned vehicles. Cypher continued, “Six. CoN ambushed us. Initiate Plan A. Over.”

Lynn and Pablo caught each other’s gazes.

As Six confirmed the order over the channel, the couple cocked their guns and jumped out of the truck. Plan A meant haul ass with the trucks to the nearest Iona location. No good would come from the enemy getting their hands on the surplus of weapons. They climbed in as Six claimed the truck in front. Pablo drove and Lynn scoured the area through the M16’s sight.

“Anything?” he asked.

“Not yet.” There was another explosion about fifty yards toward Iona. Lynn said, “Something doesn’t feel right. Do you think John is okay?”

Pablo said, “Cypher’s got him. They’ll be fine.” He drove the truck onto HWY20.

They followed behind Six, and the rest of the team brought up the remaining two trucks. Where were Cypher and John? Lynn gnashed her teeth together, experiencing fatigue through her gun grip and shoulders. They screeched to a halt.

A barricade of cars blocked the way to Iona.

“Fuck!” Pablo cursed into the steering wheel.

“Pride, this is Six. Steady as she goes. On the signal, switch to Plan B. Over and out.”

Talk of Plan B was bad. Lynn had only heard Xelan mention it once in their training. If an Iona compound fell, they initiated Plan B. In the case of such an emergency, the team abandoned the facility with little hope of recovery.

They needed to inform the Shadow.

No one left the trucks. Staring at the wall of cars, Lynn’s nerves jittered in her stomach. She wanted to squeeze the trigger. Her fingers cramped with the need.

There was an explosion in the distance, close to the compound. Lynn recognized the blast pattern. It was the signal for “all clear” unless another explosion followed.

Lynn’s knee bounced, expectantly. Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

The second blast made Pablo throw the truck in reverse and peel out as much as this big boy could drift.

“Hell, what are we gonna do now?!” Lynn called while searching the unmowed lawns bordering the road. She ground her molars when Pablo slowed without warning. “What is it?”

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“Lynn.”

She gave the windshield her attention and groaned.

A wall of fire roared over the road.

“It’s a trap,” Pablo said what Lynn was thinking aloud.

“Go! Go!”

Pablo veered the rig onto the grassy lawn. Six brought up the rear. Behind her, Lynn watched as the last truck went up in flames. CoN troops had surrounded it with fucking napalm.

Lynn cried, “That’s definitely not fucking good!” Could this truck move faster than fire if it spread to the dry field?

Cypher’s voice snapped onto the radio, confirming Iona-29’s compromise.

“Yeah, no shit!” Pablo shouted as his teeth chattered together over the tough terrain.

“Pride, this is Six. Keep on me. Over and out.”

Automatic weapon fire hailed around them. One of Iona’s Humvees kicked up some dust as it pulled into Lynn’s passenger mirror.

“Fucking finally!” Lynn said before unleashing a barrage of bullets on them. She wouldn’t tolerate CoN trash dirtying up their pretty Iona rides.

Pablo made a hard left, sending Lynn’s butt slamming into the seat. She glanced ahead and watched as Six led them onto a jeep trail. Adrenaline tried to consume her, wash all the sense and calm out of her veins. She recognized it. Controlled it. After decades of training for shit like this with her family her entire life, Lynn refused to give up the munitions truck to CoN. She retrieved a homemade explosive from under the seat.

“What the fuck is that?” Pablo asked, calmly at first. The longer Lynn concentrated on the fuse without answering him, the less calm he got. “Lynn? Lynn. What is that?” He knew the answer. The panic was his adrenaline talking.

“Keep it steady,” Lynn ordered and opened the passenger door with a lighter in her mouth.

“Fuck!” Pablo kept hard on Six’s trail without ramming the truck up her ass, but now he fought for the better grooves in the dirt road. “You’d better come back,” he demanded.

Lynn grinned. Maybe it was her last one. She said, “I love you.”

Before Pablo got to the ‘L’ word, Lynn sidled out onto the panel of the truck and along the back door. To her shock, the window rolled down against her stomach, and Pablo’s voice carried out with a fury, “I love you, too!”

No time for tears at how ridiculous and wonderful this was for them. It was time to keep going.

Lynn’s ankle racked her in fits, swollen from the stress and exertion. She gritted her teeth around the lighter and firmly gripped the bomb.

The truck struggled to keep ahead of the Humvee, the other vehicle was made for higher speeds and shitty terrain. Lucky for Lynn, the CoN bastards primarily menaced the driver’s side, firing an occasional shot at the bulletproof everything. Xelan did not fuck around kitting out his toys. Unfortunately, that included the stolen Humvee.

Shooting at each other like this was a waste of bullets.

Lynn climbed between the cab and the hitch, making her way to the driver’s side, careful for her leg and all the shit that she was juggling. The carrier offered the bare minimum support for her weight as she climbed on top.

One bomb.

One chance.

No problem.

Lynn lit the fuse, started a thirty-second countdown, gave herself time to properly judge the distance to the Humvee, and tossed the bomb right in the back.

They saw her arm arc for the throw and fired at her.

Lynn needed off this thing right now. Twenty-five. Scurrying back down, she snagged her ankle on some coiled rigging. Fuck. Fifteen. How could she signal to Pablo from here?

Lynn was stuck, and Pablo needed to prepare for the explosion. Eight. Right as she cried out in pain when the rigging tugged on her bad leg, she locked eyes with him in the rearview. He stomped on the brakes, careening her forward, which sucked, but it got them away from the blast radius as the Humvee stayed ahead.

BOOM! Big bomb. Dead CoN team.

Without a second glance, Pablo threw the door open and rushed to the hitch.

“Get the truck moving!” Lynn cried.

In a tone she’d never heard from him before, Pablo said, “Not until I get you back inside.” His hands shook as he gently plied the coiled hydraulic hose loose enough for her to pull her leg through. The moment she hobbled upright, he jerked her down by her nape and kissed her rough and steamy, leaving her stupefied when he stepped back. He threw her arm over his shoulder and acted as a crutch. “Come on.”

Lynn hobbled on her good leg and let Pablo take her weight for the bad. She said, “Thank you.”

Pablo grinned then, his hands shaking less. “You just blew up the bad guys. We’ll thank each other later.”

By the time he settled Lynn in the cab, Six was blowing up their radio with call signs and codes.

Pablo said, “Our lives are insane.”

Lynn leaned her head against the glass as the truck groaned forward once again. “Tell me about it.”

Pablo gave Six an update. She provided them with coordinates for a rendezvous. “It’s just outside West Yellowstone.”

Lynn navigated them down the jeep trail to a smaller town they’d passed on the way through. Abandoned for greater civilization, apparently. There wasn’t much to boast for itself aside from a K.O.A. and a gas station.

Lynn said, “Take a right. Now follow this trail another two miles, and then we’re off-roading again. Where the hell are they taking us?”

“What will we do about Iona-29?” Pablo bounced them along as the question hung in the air.

Lynn knew what she wanted to do about it. She wanted to storm in and reclaim the base in the name of the good guys, but this went beyond them.

After an hour of off-road mapping and worrying they’d gotten lost, they approached an abandoned lodge. The other trucks and the Hummer were parked outside.

They stared at each other for a moment. The adrenaline from the skirmish was drained, and their were bodies tired. Fuck it. Lynn leaned in, and Pablo met her halfway. The kiss sent tingles to her toes. It ended all too soon. “One of these days.” She smiled sadly at him.

Pablo said, “Shit, the minute we have a plan, I’m dragging you out in the woods.”

Lynn snorted at him. “You’re gonna fuck me against some tree?”

“I’ll take the bark-burn if you wanna lead.” He smirked.

Her cheeks hurt with the grinning. “We’ll work it out when we get there.”

They unloaded and headed into the mossy, vine-choked cabin. Weird Plan B, but okay. They opened the door, and the interior surprised Lynn.

High-tech and built like a space station. Reinforced and fireproof, the interior facilities matched that of the Iona compounds. It was the type of quality Lynn had come to expect from their Icarean frontman. Sporting a headset, John waved them over to the Icarean communication console. Cypher sat beside him, reloading magazines over a box of mines.

Six filled them in, “Frullop’s people and members of CoN infiltrated Iona-29. They also infiltrated other bases. The spies at 29 took over the base at the news of Frullop’s execution. All other bases reported uprisings, but they squashed them. Unlike the other bases, Frullop’s men at 29 outnumbered our people eight to one. They were heavily compromised. We’re trying to reach the Shadow now.”

“Do they know why this base had so much more attention paid to it?” Pablo asked.

Lynn added, “Yeah, this is kind of in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

Cypher nodded. “Hang tight. We’ll have answers—”

John’s fist went up, signaling them to stop talking. Over the radio, Xelan’s voice instantly relieved Lynn, “Pride, this is Wingmaster. What’s your status? Over.”

John responded, “Wingmaster, this is Pride. Iona-29 is fucked, sir. Over.”