Page 86 of Wraith: Lethal Impact

"If he hurts you, I'll find him." A tearful smile breaks through her fear. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise."

Andrea steps forward and wraps her arms around me again, holding me so tight her heart pounds against my chest. Her fingers dig into the silver blanket draped over my shoulders.

"I love you." Her breath touches my neck, her voice thick with emotion. "Call me the second you get back to the States. Don't make me wait."

"I love you too." I squeeze her until my ribs ache, burying my face into her neck. "I'll see you at home."

She pulls back slowly, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist, offering a brave smile.

The operator steps up, giving us a polite nod before motioning toward the second Black Hawk.

Andrea steps off the concrete, her paper slippers sinking into the churned mud as she walks toward the transport bird. Halfway across the ramp, she stops, turns back, and waves once.

I lift my hand, holding her gaze until she climbs into the cabin and the doors close.

"There's a seat for you on that bird." Okafor rejoins me at the edge of the slab, raising her voice over the rising whine of the turbines. "Chiang Mai tonight. A doctor in the morning, consulate after that, home by the weekend."

"I'm not taking it." My gaze stays locked on the dark tree line. "I'm not done."

"The initial phase is wrapping up." Okafor pauses, her stylus hovering over the tablet. "Your friend is safe, and you've given your statement. You can head home."

"Six girls went north in that black SUV." I turn to face her, rain slicking my hair to my neck. "Task Force 9 isn't done here, and neither am I. There are still things to resolve, and I'm staying until it's finished."

Okafor studies me for a long moment. A hint of a respectful smile touches her mouth as she taps the screen.

"All right." She logs the entry on her tablet. "I'll record that witness elected to remain on site with Task Force 9."

"My direct line's on the front." Okafor pulls a business card from her tactical vest, scrawls a number on the back, and hands it to me. "Case number's on the back. When you want to know where your father's compass is, call the first number and give them the second. Someone will answer."

I take the card. The heavy paper stock feels small between my dirty fingers.

Across the dock, the medic finishes taping a white square of gauze over Dax's deltoid, snaps his trauma kit shut, and steps away.

Dax walks across the wet tarmac toward me, his olive shirt cut open at the shoulder and stiffened with dried blood.

"How are you holding up?" Dax stops in front of me, his dark gaze scanning my face before turning toward the transport bird lifting off the ramp. "Your friend is on that helicopter. Are you going with her?"

"I stayed." My voice is quiet. I look up at him, searching the hard lines of his face with a flicker of hesitation. "I told Okafor I'm staying with Task Force 9. I want to stay with you... If that's what you want."

Dax holds still. For a long moment, his dark eyes soften, the raw truth breaking through his guarded mask.

"I don't want you to leave," he says, his voice low and intense. "But if you need to go home to be safe, I wouldn't have stood in your way."

"I don't want safe." I step closer to him. "I want to be here. With you."

Relief softens the hard lines of his jaw, his tense shoulders dropping half an inch.

I hold his SIG Sauer out to him. He takes the weapon and holsters it without taking his eyes off me.

"Come with me." He extends his open hand, dried blood filling the callused creases of his palm.

I place my hand inside his. His fingers close tight, anchoring me, and he walks me up the loading ramp into the Task Force 9 helicopter.

Inside the cabin, Dax's teammates sit strapped into jump seats amidst tactical gear and weapon cases. Cipher looks up from a glowing monitor, while Rook and Bronco adjust their gear to make room on the bench.

Dax pulls me down beside him on the webbed seating, his arm wrapping around my waist to hold me steady against the rotor vibration.