She chuckled. Devin always had a knack for telling the truth, no matter how ridiculous the circumstances. Marnie just hoped she could pull this off so they could laugh about it later.

CHAPTER 49

CHAPTER 49

Devin waited behind the cabin, keeping his eye on Rich, who had ventured about fifteen yards into the forest. A fierce gun battle raged behind Devin, the four members of the team who’d volunteered to stay behind increasing the volume of fire to draw attention away from their escape.

“Devin. You’re up. Leapfrog about ten yards past me,” said Rich.

“Don’t fuck this up,” he muttered to himself and stepped into the forest.

He scurried toward Rich, his feet hitting a few roots on the way. Branches weren’t a problem anymore—he’d learned to gauge the distances to closer objects better—and it really didn’t matter if he snapped a few twigs. Nobody would hear it over the gunfire. He scooted past Rich and settled in behind a thick tree trunk—just glad not to have fallen on his face.

“Nice job,” said Rich. “I don’t detect any reaction to our movement so far. Marnie and Alex, same drill. Head past Devin and take cover. If your movement goes unnoticed, we’ll link up at your position and move out from there at a faster pace.”

“Heading out now,” said Alex.

Devin watched the two of them duck and weave through the trees, moving at a fast clip. They passed in front of him and halted behind a dense stand of brush about twenty yards away, rifles pointed toward the center of camp. He caught some movement in his peripheral vision. Rich was heading his way, moving significantly faster than before. Rich tapped his shoulder on the way by, and Devin followed in his footsteps, the two of them reaching Marnie and Alex without Devin stumbling or running into anything. He felt as though he was getting the hang of this.

“OVERWATCH, this is RIFFRAFF ONE. Any sign we’ve been detected?” said Rich.

“Negative. I don’t see any unusual movement.”

Rich removed a satellite phone from a pouch on his vest and checked the digital navigation screen, which he’d programmed with the waypoint passed to him by Graves. He compared the screen to his wrist compass, aiming the two in the presumed direction of the helicopter, before turning to address the group.

“We have about three hundred yards to go. I say we jog the rest of the way. Space ourselves about twenty feet apart.”

“This may sound like a dumb question, but what do we do if we start taking fire?” asked Devin.