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the debris field, set a few triggers to tell if someone else came through after them, then took off. All that while trying to ignore the churning in his gut and the rolling tension that ran his blood cold at the thought of Cara being hurt or in danger again. He could tolerate a lot, but not that.
    After the campsite was photographed from every angle and was as secure as they could make it in these conditions and with limited equipment, they headed off. Skimmed the line between the trees and the open land. The path left them less exposed as they stumbled over tree roots and rock piles.
    Their boots crunched against the ground and fallen, scattered leaves. Now and then they’d see something from the campsite and Cara would bend down to grab it. He’d bundled her in his warmer jacket and now she filled the pockets with whatever she decided she had to keep.
    Despite the sense that doom might come closing in, Reid tried to keep his walk at a steady pace. For him, it was almost like standing still, but he didn’t want to shake Cara up any more than necessary by jogging the distance to the cabins, as she called them. She might have pulled back from the edge of shock, but he hadn’t had time to check her for injuries, and wasn’t fully convinced she’d escaped whatever happened with only bumps and bruises. One trip or overturned ankle could start her on a severe health decline.
    Never mind that she’d regained her spunk, and sure had no trouble broadcasting all over the Russian countryside her decision to dump him. That fucker still stung. Yeah, the affair had been quick and his marriage proposal faster than what most might consider normal, but he asked because he’d meant it, and the fact that she never seemed to get it pissed him off.
    She’d walked away, moved on and limited contact with him. Well, at first limited then cut it off completely. But here they were, back in the same cycle. Her work put her in danger, which put her under his protection.
    He shouldn’t give a shit about what she’d been doing or the lack of contact. He’d moved on. He’d had sex during the last sixteen months and learned a valuable lesson about proposing marriage. That particular act would never happen again. The whole commitment, love crap clearly wasn’t his thing. The final text message from her on his phone telling him they should “take a break” served as a constant reminder of how much he sucked at it.
    Parker pulled even with Reid, letting Cara venture out a few steps in front of them. Parker’s constant surveillance of the area never ceased, even as he leaned over and dropped his voice lower than usual. “You’re making growling noises.”
    That was nothing compared to the running commentary in his head. “Fuck off.”
    Parker laughed. “Yeah, clearly you’re fine.”
    “Something is going on here and I don’t know what it is. I hate not being in control of a situation.” And not knowing what she was thinking didn’t help.
    She hadn’t run rogue. For the most part, she listened to directions. She didn’t strike him as the kind of person who sought out danger, but it sure did keep finding her, and he could not get a handle on why. Shewas a geologist, not an undercover agent. He wondered if she truly understood that.
    “Uh-huh. The ‘situation’ is the problem.” Parker buried what he’d said under what sounded like a fake cough.
    Reid knew ignoring his friend wouldn’t help. Parker would just pick away, dropping comments until he started talking. Not that they could have a normal conversation right now anyway. Not with their attention on the area around them and the need to listen for any sounds, any movement.
    “Just say whatever you’ve been holding in so we can get back to work before the FSB hunts us down.” And there was no question the Russian security service would close in soon. The successor to the old KGB handled everything from border control to terrorism threats to general surveillance. Sneaking