My Hard-hearted Hero

Chapter 14 √

The rasp of Zach's fingers raised gooseflesh on Ariana's skin as he drew the blue scarf around her neck. He tucked it under the collar of the oversize navy peacoat he'd given her and knotted it.

"You're trembling," he said, searching her eyes, his own glowing silver in the dim interior of the storage garage on the outskirts of the Underground compound.

It was mid afternoon. They'd just slipped through the woods from the road and Zach had made short work of the padlock on the door. They were about a quarter mile from the administration building where Lucas lived and worked.

She shrugged. "It's cold." It wasn't that cold, and she hoped he couldn't tell how scared she was.

He stuffed the tails of the scarf into the open collar of her flannel shirt and snugged the jacket around her neck.

"Ariana, I've been on too many dangerous missions not to recognize fear when I see it. You've got a right to be scared. It's not too late to back out."

She started to speak and he pressed his fingers to her lips, saying, "I won't think any less of you."

She took a deep breath. "I'm okay. Really."

For about the dozenth time, he patted the jacket pocket where she'd tucked her gun.

"It's still there," she said with a shaky chuckle.

He tilted her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"Remember. You're not going to do anything risky. Just look around, like I instructed you. If you find anything intriguing, leave it alone and let me deal with it. You got that?"

She nodded, afraid to speak around her chattering teeth.

He studied her face intently. "I mean it, Ariana. Wait for me. Now, what time are you going to meet me?" He quizzed.

"Ten in the evening."

"Where?"

"Right here."

He lifted her wrist and checked her watch again making sure it was synchronized with his. She wasn't the only one who was nervous, but she knew his fear was for her safety, not his own.

She suppressed a shiver and peered at her surroundings. A grimy riding mower shared the garage with stacks of dirty resin chairs, an outboard motor, boat cushions and gardening and sports equipment. An enormous, tangled heap of tennis and volleyball nets occupied a nearby corner. Rakes,  shovels and other tools hung from rusty hooks on the plank walls. Above their heads, perched on the rafters, were an inverted rowboat, an inflatable dinghy and some oars. The stained cement floor was littered with dried leaves that had blown in.

Zach knelt and opened his rucksack. "Okay, let's check out my bag of tricks." He hauled out what appeared to be black binoculars with rubber eyecups and a single long scope in front. He set them aside.

"Think they'll go with my outfit?" She asked.

"These are night-vision goggles, and they're for me. I intend to keep a close eye on things. But even with these, I'll probably have trouble distinguishing you at a distance in the dark. That's why you're going to carry this."

He held out his palm, on which rested a small black box. She took it and turned it over in her hand. It was a couple of inches long and less than an inch thick. It had a three position button and a little red eye.

She said, "Okay, I give up."

He rose. "It's a firefly. An infrared marking beacon. Pretty simple, actually." He took it from her and briefly slid out the nine-volt battery, which just fit inside the casing.