Loyalty in Death (In Death #9)(115)

His arm came around her. It was debatable who was holding whom upright. “Yeah, it’s a killer. Let’s go home, Eve.”

“Okay.” She pulled out her communicator as they hobbled toward the doorway. “This is Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. We’re secure here.”

“Lieutenant.” Whitney’s voice came through as a mild buzzing as fatigue washed over her. Even the echo of adrenaline had faded. “Report?”

“Ah…” She shook her head, but didn’t quite clear it. “The explosives are down, E and B teams can dispose. The Bransons took a leap. We’ll need body removal to scrape up what’s left of them. Sir… Roarke’s injured. I’m transporting him to a health center.”

“Is his condition serious?”

They teetered on the stairs, shifted grips, and continued down. Eve had to swallow down a chuckle. “Oh, we’re pretty much a mess here, Commander, thanks, but we’ll hold. Do me a favor, will you?”

On the miniscreen, Whitney’s brows drew together in surprise. “Yes?”

“Will you tag Peabody and McNab and Feeney? Tell them we’re okay here. Mostly okay, anyhow. They worry, and I’m feeling a little too flaked to triangulate our status. Oh, and tell Peabody to go get Zeke and maybe get him drunk or something. He’ll handle what went down here better that way.”

“Excuse me?”

She swayed as they came to the entrance level, shot Roarke a puzzled look as he shook with laughter. “Um, sorry, Commander, I think we’re running into some interference on this channel.”

Obligingly, Roarke took the communicator and shut it down. “There, before you ask your superior to join the drunken revelry.”

“Jesus, I can’t believe I said that.” She stepped out into the teeth of the wind, winced against the brilliant spin of lights from landing copters. She rubbed a hand over her face as the teams began to leap out and race toward the statue. “Let’s get out of here before I say something else stupid.”

By the time they dragged each other into the jet-copter, she wanted nothing more than to curl up in a corner, any corner, and sleep for a week. Yawning, she turned her head and looked at Roarke as he took the controls. He was bloody, torn, and gorgeous. Through the fatigue, the worry, she grinned.

“Roarke? Nice working with you.”

His eyes glinted wild and blue and his grin flashed in return as the jets roared to life. “My pleasure, Lieutenant. As always.”

The End