Page 41 of Crocodile Tears
“Well,” she says finally, her voice husky with satisfaction, “that wasn’t quite how I imagined our second date.”
I laugh, still holding her against the wall.“It was certainly memorable.”
She gives me a slow, satisfied smile.“I have to say, your approach to tactical operations is surprisingly… thorough.”
“My approach to you is unsurprisingly thorough.”I help her down gently, both of us beginning the process of making ourselves presentable for continued escape operations.“This definitely wasn’t in my civilian reintegration handbook.”
“Your what?”
“Long story.”I retrieve my scattered gear while she adjusts her clothing.“Which I’ll be happy to tell you once we’re somewhere that doesn’t involve armed guards and genetic weapons research.”
“About that.”Becci turns serious as she straightens her shirt.“We still need to destroy the laboratory.I wasn’t joking about the consequences of leaving that research intact.”
I look at her determined expression and realize extracting Dr.Lawson is going to involve significantly more complications than I anticipated.She’s not just a victim to be rescued.She’s a scientist with strong ethical convictions and the tactical flexibility to adapt to changing circumstances.
“All right.”I finish securing my vest and check my remaining equipment.“We do this my way.No improvisation, no splitting up, and no heroic sacrifices for the greater good.”
“Agreed.”She grins with obvious excitement.“Though I reserve the right to provide technical expertise about which specific systems to target for maximum effectiveness.”
“Of course, you do.”
As I open the storage room door and check the hallway for threats, I wonder what Dr.Martinez would say about my approach to civilian dating.Probably something about how rescue operations involving international criminal organizations and military-grade genetic research aren’t exactly what she had in mind when she recommended “taking things slowly.”
Looking at Becci as she prepares to help me sabotage a hostile research facility, I think this might actually be the most honest second date I’ve ever had.At least neither of us has to pretend to be someone we’re not.
Chapter 11
Becci
Cal’shandsignalsaresurprisingly specific and completely incomprehensible to someone who learned communication through peer-reviewed journals rather than military operations.When he makes what appears to be an elaborate gesture involving pointed fingers and circular motions, I interpret it as “check that door” rather than what it apparently means.
I reach for the door handle just as footsteps approach from the other side.His reflexes are faster than my curiosity, and he pulls me back against the wall with controlled urgency that suggests extensive experience in avoiding detection.
He leans close to my ear, his breath warm against my skin.“That signal meantstay put.”
I turn my head toward him, our faces inches apart.“How was I supposed to know that?You looked like you were directing air traffic.”
Cal’s jaw tightens with obvious frustration.“Universal tactical communications aren’t actually universal if you’ve never learned them.”
I cross my arms and fix him with my most professorial stare.“Then maybe you should stick to charades.At least those have logical connections to their meanings.”
The voices on the other side of the door fade as the guards move past our location.He waits another thirty seconds before stepping away from the wall and motioning for me to follow.
We move through a service corridor that smells like industrial cleaner and recycled air.The fluorescent lighting flickers intermittently, casting moving shadows that make every corner look potentially dangerous.Cal navigates with a confidence that says he’s memorized the building’s layout while I try to avoid tripping over the various pipes and electrical conduits that protrude from the walls.
A door at the end of the corridor opens into a maintenance area filled with HVAC equipment and electrical panels.The mechanical noise provides good cover for conversation, but he still keeps his voice low as he checks another of his mysterious devices.
“The laboratory is through the main research wing.”He studies what appears to be a building schematic on a small screen.“We need to avoid the central elevator bank and the primary corridors.”
“Stay close to the wall and move when I move.”He demonstrates a path that uses architectural features to minimize exposure to camera angles.“The blind spots are narrow, so timing matters.”
We advance in short bursts, pausing behind pillars and architectural details while Cal calculates the next safe movement.The process is methodical and surprisingly athletic, making me grateful for all those hours I spent swimming laps at the university pool.
A guard rounds the corner ahead of us just as we’re crossing an exposed section of hallway.Cal immediately pushes me into an alcove containing a fire emergency station and positions himself to block my visibility to the approaching threat.
The guard walks past our hiding spot without noticing our presence, but the encounter leaves my heart racing with adrenaline.He waits until the footsteps fade completely before stepping away from our concealment.
“That was closer than I prefer.”He checks his watch while scanning the hallway for additional threats.“We need to move faster.”
