Teddy nodded.
Dunn moved among the teams, distributing sealed envelopes containing maps and clues to be psychically transmitted.
Beside her, Kate swatted the envelope against her palm. “Hey, Cannon. We got this. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So if anyone tries to hold you back in there, you have my permission to take them out.”
For the first time in hours, Teddy smiled. “Where? The Cantina? Or just for a grain bowl at Harris?”
Kate scowled. “Channel?”
Teddy dimmed the energy she was diverting to her wall, now second nature.
“How about lucky number seven?” Kate said. She took Teddy’s hands in her own. They started to breathe together, trying to sync their connection. Kate’s mind was nothing like Molly’s. It was easy to find Kate’s rhythm: steady, regular, strong, constant like a metronome. Teddy pictured the now familiar walkie-talkie, turning the channel to seven, hearing first static, then Kate’s voice.
I’m in, Kate said.
I know, Teddy said. I’m not an idiot.
Prove it.
A starter pistol split the air.
Teddy took a deep breath and jogged through the entrance of the first of three warehouses, labeled with a huge letter A. Inside, it was darker than she’d thought. She had to squint to make out her first obstacle. A couple more steps and it came into her line of vision. One hundred feet ahead was a vertical wooden wall with a knotted rope. She’d have to climb that before she got a glimpse of what else awaited her. But she could do that. As a matter of fact, after half a year at Whitfield, she was goddamn good at rope climbing.
She hurled herself upward and grabbed the rope. But it came loose, and Teddy pitched backward, grunting as she landed flat on her back. Her breath whooshed from her lungs and she fought to catch it.
The rope hadn’t been attached to anything, and Teddy hadn’t bothered to check it, as she’d been trained to do. Nearby, someone cursed. At least she hadn’t been the only one to fall for it.
I thought you said you weren’t an idiot, Kate telegraphed.
Teddy rolled over, got to her feet. She examined the wall, noting for the first time its notched grooves and discrete wooden footholds. She scaled to the top to survey the other side.
An obstacle course. But this one was far more elaborate than anything she’d ever run in Boyd’s gym—from the top of the wall, she could see that they’d set up what looked like a small town inside the warehouse, ramshackle structures created twisting alleyways. People milled about the course, some dressed as civilians, others outfitted in combat uniforms. It looked like a two-bit dystopian movie set. One of Boyd’s “real-world scenarios.” Teddy’s gut churned.
First checkpoint—flagpole.
Got it, Teddy said.
She spotted the flagpole at her three o’clock, just east of a pile of tires. For a second, she wondered about that obstacle but then remembered her task. She scanned the area again, plotted a path as she climbed down the wall. She lurched forward, shoving through a stack of wooden crates. Teddy reached the flagpole only to find coils of wire wrapped around the base, extending six feet into the air.
How the hell am I supposed to climb this? Teddy didn’t realize she had telegraphed the thought until she heard Kate’s response.
What? Talk to me, Kate said.
It’s wrapped in wire.
Don’t climb it. Climb something else.
Teddy saw a metal Dumpster a few feet to her left. She felt she ought to thank Boyd for all the fun and games, for she easily hoisted herself onto the lid. She planted her feet, bent her knees, and hoisted herself onto the pole just above the razor wire. Putting one hand over the other, she propelled herself to the top and reached for her first red card, stamped with Checkpoint #1.
One down, she said to Kate.
Teddy tucked the card into her vest pocket and skimmed down the pole, launching herself back onto the Dumpster. If only she had known how to do this in Vegas. Teddy smiled. That would have given Sergei a run for his money. Or rather, a climb for his money.
Behind schedule, Kate said. Hurry up.
She thought she’d been moving fast. Got it. Next?
Second checkpoint. Bravo warehouse, back office.
Teddy retraced her steps, exiting the first warehouse, which was probably A, Alpha, and entering the second, Bravo. Unlike Alpha warehouse, where the lights were dim, Bravo was pure chaos. Flashing strobes, smoke, alarms. Another one of Boyd’s tactical drills meant to distract recruits and challenge their focus. Teddy took a deep breath. She had to find a back office in this mess?
Teddy raised her head and surveyed the ground. In between flashing lights, she saw a door above a catwalk on the southwest corner of the warehouse. When the next alarm went off, sending another surge of smoke through the space, Teddy sprinted toward the structure, raced up the steps, and threw open the door. The high-pitched buzz of radar guns sounded all around her. Crap. She’d forgotten to check for potential threats before she’d entered.
Teddy froze. From the corner of her vision, she spotted Zac crouched in the corner. His gun was trained on her.
She raised her hands in surrender, and he nodded at her. If he shot her, they’d both be out.
“Hell of an entrance, Cannon,” Zac said.
What’s happening? Kate said in her head.
Zac.
Trust him.
Teddy wasn’t so sure. She held her finger to her lips, withdrew her weapon, and peered out the window, assessing the situation. Three enemy combatants were stationed atop the metal catwalk that ran along the right side of the building. Even if Teddy and Zac found their cards, they’d never make it out.
“Let’s take them out first,” Zac said. He lined up his shot,
