Free EDGE OF SHADOWS: The Shadow Ops Finale (Shadow Ops, Book # 3) by C.J. Lyons, Cynthia Cooke

know when the coast was clear, but instead, all she had was EZ, head down, in the wheel well.
    Then she spotted her opening. If the truck driver saw her and the woman kept crossing at the same angle and if her brakes and tires held out…yes, they could make it. Worst-case scenario, they’d miss the mother and the truck would hit them on Rose’s side.
    She sent a quick prayer up, nudged the gas, and flew past the attendant in the booth, the gate snapping in two, one piece catapulting over the hood of the Subaru, aimed at the SUV behind her.
    The truck driver saw her. He blasted his horn as he slammed on the brakes. The Subaru spun out in front of him as he skidded to a halt, blocking the exit and trapping the SUV inside the garage. The mother looked up, but she didn’t freeze, thank God. Instead, she jerked her kids to the side, giving Rose the space she needed to ram the driver’s side tires up on the curb and hurtle past, two wheels up, two wheels down.
    Once they were clear, Rose yanked the wheel. The car bounced back down onto all four wheels, and they sped out into the afternoon traffic.
    “You okay?” she asked EZ as she steered them down side streets where they could avoid police attention. Wind rushed in through the shattered rear window. Poor car probably had a few other holes in it as well.
    He twisted his face to stare up at her. “I think I’m going to be sick,” he gasped.
    Rose chuckled. “It’s the adrenaline. Gets to everyone. Makes Chase Westin cry like a baby, if that makes you feel any better.”
    Slowly, he eased his way back into an upright position. “Where are we going?”
    “My place.”
    “I thought you lived in Alexandria.”
    The official address she used was a small apartment there, but Rose had over a dozen safe havens in the DC metro area that she’d set up over the years, along with a network of assets who had no connection to the intelligence community. Some of her safe houses were as simple as a cot in a storage unit or friend’s garage; others were rentals that were backstopped with complete aliases.
    One thing she’d learned during her years with the CIA—you can never be too careful. Not even after you finally came home.
    “I have a few places,” she said nonchalantly. “You’ll be safe here.”
    EZ looked up at that. “Wait. What do you mean I’ll be safe here? Are you saying those guys were after me?”
    “You and what you might find on that hard drive. Got everything you need?”
    He frowned. “No. I need a toothbrush and clothes and—”
    “I mean everything you need to work, find out more about this bio lab.”
    “Oh that. Yes.” He bounced his computer case in his lap. “But—”
    “No buts, EZ. About time you got out of the office, got a taste of the real world.”
    He didn’t say anything to that, simply clutched his briefcase to his chest and stared out the window with a glazed expression.
    They pulled up to a modest brick apartment complex. Rose parked behind a set of dumpsters, out of sight. She’d move the car later, clear it of any evidence and torch it, switch to a backup vehicle. But first, she needed to get EZ settled.
    She got out of the car and led him up two flights of stairs to a corner unit. As she unlocked the door, he stared at her, and she wondered what he was wrestling with.
    “Is it worth it?” he asked finally. “This job we do? The sacrifices we make? Not telling friends and family what we do for a living, the danger we face, who we really are. Not trusting anyone, not even the people we work with?”
    Rose took a deep breath, his questions hitting a tender spot that had been growing through the years as she, too, wondered, was it worth it? The image of Billy the first time she’d seen him—all dark and earnest as he led his Delta team. Intense, yet also loving every moment of his mission. How many times over the years had she turned to that memory for strength? Yet, they still were both hopelessly tied to their jobs. Their