Cuff Lynx Read Online Free PDF

where else could he aim the car? And that’s probably where we’d meet up with the other teams.
    I lay flat on my back and worked on a best solution set. I let my mind drift to find what information my subconscious wanted me to weigh. The images I pulled up were from my very first experiences with using my sixth sense as a little girl. When someone’s pet was lost or their child didn’t come home for dinner, I was able to come up with situational clues that I could piece together to make a good guess. But I had known the area pretty well, so I had mundane information about what I was sensing. Could that technique work here? I didn’t know the area that was marked on Blaze’s computer screen, but this was all I was willing to do under these circumstances. That was my plan, anyway.
    I visualized my team this morning at Headquarters. I pictured the operation clearly drawn on the white board. The Veil shimmered to my right. That was information in and of itself. The Veil only opened when someone was in desperate straits. This was more than a communications glitch. Something had gone seriously wrong. I pushed the Veil back, asking it to close - the way Miriam Laugherty taught me as I learned the techniques for leaving my body for remote psychic work.
    Knowing the close tie Gater and I had in the ether, I decided to go the simplest route possible and just ask. “Gater, where are you?”

Four
     
    G ater’s heart beat Morse code against his ribs. He lay flat on his stomach. His ears rang so loudly, the noise masked any telltale environmental sounds. I could see nothing. Midnight black with intermittent colored flecks. The acrid smell of smoke—Gater’s lungs were full of it. He held a cough behind a tightly clamped fist. Held it back like a drowning man holds onto his last breath.
    Puzzle it out, Lexi. I had smelled this smell before – something sharp. . .pyrotechnics. Something had detonated. Gater’s vision was clearing. His ears still rang loudly. Saliva gathered in his mouth, and he swallowed down the need to cough. An eerie yellow light showed the outline of a hand holding a gun to Gater’s right, so someone was with him. The pistol glowed bright with heat.
    “You okay back there, Lynx?” Blaze called from the front seat of the SUV.
    “I’m guessing flashbang. Using fusion night-vision. Wet. Narrow space. Shots fired recently.” Nothing helpful.
    The heat on the gun, the need for fusion lenses at fourteen hundred hours, the lack of ambient light to improve night vision capabilities, and no communications. The sensory puzzle pieces were adding up.
    Turn your head, Gater; give me something I can work with .
    As if on cue, Gater shifted to the right. I felt warmth against his leg as he leaned into the person beside him. He shifted again until his lips touched something soft and turgid. . . an ear.
    “Sir, Lynx is here.” Gater’s murmur was a movement of lips and tongue. His ears were still ringing, and he was probably having trouble modulating his voice—not knowing if he was mumbling or yelling—that or a target hid nearby.
    “Sir,” he had said. It must be Striker. I knew that Striker nodded a response by the whisper of his skin moving up and down near Gater’s cheek. White filled my visual field and a noise exploded so loudly that I curled protectively into a ball. It took me a few seconds to gather my thoughts.
    “Another flashbang, Blaze.” I reported from my prone position in the back of the SUV. “This time the smell is not as noxious. I think they threw it farther away. I bet the target is blast fishing.  Gater and Striker are together. I have no information on the rest of our team.”
    I waited for something more on Gater’s side. A scream went up at a distance, echoing. A female voice. I couldn’t make out the words through the shrill tinnitus in Gater’s ears, but terror has a certain quality to it. Gater’s chest tightened. Adrenaline surged through his veins, making his lying still