Page 92 of Rogue Mission
Justice is hot on my heels, Parson’s unconscious body slung over his shoulder, seemingly weightless. Ryker’s already vaulting the fence into the neighbor’s yard, moving with the fluid grace of someone who’s done this a thousand times.
I’m the weak link here. The scientist playing soldier.
“Over, Rosalie!” Justice’s voice cuts through the chaos. I should have gone to the gym.
My hands catch the top, muscles are screaming, and I try to haul myself up. Only I don’t even make it three inches.
“Use your feet,” Justice says as his hand finds my butt. Then he’s shoving me into the air.
How?
He’s carrying dead weight and pushing me up the fence?
I almost scream when Ryker grabs my wrist. A second later, I’m sailing over the top, Ryker’s hands gripping me hard at the waist as he sets me down.
My head is spinning, and when he lets go, I tumble, slip on the grass, and land face-first on a birdbath. There’s so much adrenaline in me, I bounce like a ball and somehow I’m running again with Ryker laughing at me.
“How can you be laughing?”
I squeak when he hoists me over a much smaller fence, which Justice leaps over like he’s running freaking parkour.
That’s when I realize where we are.
“Where’s the car?” I gasp, scanning the street.
That’s when I see it—or rather, don’t see it.
Our ride is gone. The spot where we parked three houses down is empty except for a Prius and a minivan.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ryker mutters, his phone pressed to his ear. “Mako, where the hell is our vehicle?”
I can’t hear the response, but Ryker’s expression says it all.
“Gone,” he tells us, already scanning the neighborhood. “Heat signature showed two guys circling it. They just put it on a rollback, those motherfuckers.”
“That’s three trucks this year,” Justice says, shifting Parson’s weight. There’s something almost amused in his tone despite everything. “Marshall’s going to have an aneurysm.”
“Before I was hired,” Ryker adds. “Don’t count that against me.”
A door slams somewhere behind us. Shouts are getting closer. I nearly levitate, I’m so freaked.
But where can we go?
The neighborhood is all manicured lawns and identical driveways. Security cameras on every porch. Motion lights like fireflies.
We’re exposed. Hunted. And our extraction vehicle just drove away.
Parson groans, head lolling against Justice’s back.
Great. That’s all we need.
“Shut up,” I hiss at him, earning a surprised look from both men.
Parson’s eyes flutter open, unfocused. “What—where?—”
I pull out my bear spray, holding it inches from his face. “One more sound and I introduce you to capsaicin in concentrations you can’t even imagine. Nod if you understand.”
He nods, eyes widening.
