Chapter 24
Twenty minutes later, they stood beside an older, silver Honda Accord. The most boring car ever manufactured. After Doc's armored food truck, Sarah had been expecting something a little more... exciting. Or at least quirky.
"That's our ride?" she asked, unable to hide her disappointment.
Doc laughed. "Were you expecting the Batmobile?"
"Kind of. I mean, after yesterday..." Sarah gestured vaguely toward the garage where the tactical food truck waited. "That Honda’s something my mom would drive."
"That’s the point," Griff said, loading gear into a trunk that was surprisingly spacious. "Best camouflage is being completely forgettable. Nobody will look twice at this grocery getter." He eyed Doc. “I’m guessing there’ve been a few upgrades where it counts?”
“Exactly. You’ll appreciate the superior acceleration, if needed. And the suspension. Julius upgraded it—KW Variant 3s, fully adjustable. Should handle admirably if you need to take any corners at speed."
Griff whistled. “Favorites of the Swedish Special Forces.”
“They always did have the best drivers.” Doc approached with a small cooler and what appeared to be a picnic basket. "Road trip supplies. Real food, not those dreadful protein bars."
As they pulled out of the driveway, Sarah watched Doc's house recede in the mirror until it disappeared behind trees.
The Honda, despite its boring appearance, rode smoothly as they merged onto I-95 South.
Sarah had expected awkwardness—being trapped in a car for hours with someone who made her pulse race and her brain turn to mush.
Now, if she could only turn off her own thoughts and enjoy this last bit of quiet time with him.
"You seem tense," Griff said after they'd been driving for an hour.
Sarah glanced at him, noting how he could read her mood without even looking away from the road. "I'm fine."
"Your jaw's been clenched for the past fifty miles, and you've been doing that thing with your glasses."
"What thing?"
"Pushing them up when you're nervous. You've done it twelve times since we left Doc's."
Sarah deliberately lowered her hand from where it had been unconsciously adjusting her frames. "I didn't realize I was that obvious."
"It's okay to be scared. What we're walking into..." He shrugged. "My team's the best, but there are no guarantees in this business."
Sarah turned in her seat to face him, needing him to understand. "I'm not scared about what might happen to me."
His eyebrows drew together. "Then what?"
"I'm scared about what might happen to all of you.
Because of me." The words tumbled out in a rush.
"This whole thing started because I couldn't leave well enough alone.
I kept digging when I should have stopped.
And now your entire team is converging on Charleston because I couldn't mind my own business. And I don’t have your skills. That makes me a liability."
Griff pulled into a rest stop overlooking a valley painted in spring green. For a moment, they sat in silence, windows down, listening to birds and distant traffic.
"Sarah." His voice was gentler than she'd ever heard it. "Look at me."
She turned to meet his eyes, those gray-blue depths that seemed to see straight through her carefully constructed defenses.
His hand covered hers on the console, warm and steady. "You didn't cause this, Sarah. You exposed it. There's a difference."
"Your team though—"
"My team has been hunting these same people for months. The difference is now we actually have a chance to stop them. Because of you. I haven’t told you this, but you were my last shot at finding the rest of Tank’s killers.
I got a hit one time when you dove into some Stillwater data.
That’s why I was watching you." His thumb brushed across her knuckles, sending electricity up her arm. "You gave us hope. Gave me hope."
Lord, she prayed silently, help him find his way back to You. Help him see that he's not just a weapon or a tool for justice.
And if it's Your will, she added, her heart racing at her own boldness, maybe help him see that some of us think he's worth fighting for too.
In the coming days, they'd face a conspiracy that reached the highest levels of government. But today, they were two people sharing snacks and stories on a sunny afternoon, discovering that sometimes love had a way of blooming in the most unlikely soil.
Even if neither of them was quite ready to admit it yet.
As Charleston's skyline appeared on the horizon hours later, Sarah found herself praying—not just for their safety or the mission's success, but for the man beside her. For his healing, his faith, his ability to see himself the way she was beginning to see him.