“We’ve got kill codes for their primary encryption,” Kate added through the speaker. “If we can access their mainframe, we can potentially lock them out of their own systems.”
Ethan nodded. “If we get access, fine. But if not, we’ll go the old-fashioned route and blow it. Once the charges are set, we’ll?—”
“Get the hell out?” Nolan suggested.
“—exfil,” Ethan concluded. “We evacuate the residents we can to the rally point and hold there until the effects of the mind control wear off.”
“What about Langston?” I asked, the question burning in my throat. “Is he a target?”
A heavy silence fell across the table. Ethan’s eyes met mine, coolly assessing.
“Winslow is not the primary objective,” he said carefully. “But he is a person of interest for intelligence purposes.”
Translation: they’d take him if they could, but destroying the mind control technology took precedence. I couldn’t argue with the logic, even as part of me wanted Langston to pay for what he’d done.
“Ms. Phillips,” Ethan continued, his use of my formal name creating instant distance. “Your knowledge of Garnett’s layout and residents is invaluable. You’ll assist Dutch with civilian evacuation—coordinating transportation, identifying unaffected individuals, and ensuring safe passage to the rally point.”
I stiffened. “I should be with Team Alpha or Bravo. I know Langston. The way he thinks, his habits?—“
“Which is precisely why you can’t be anywhere near the front line,” Ethan cut in. “If Winslow captures you, the entire operation is compromised. He’d have exactly what he’s been looking for.”
“And leverage,” Trent added quietly, his eyes meeting mine across the table. “Leverage he’d use against us all.”
I wanted to argue, to insist I could handle myself, but the logic was irrefutable. My presence on the front lines would be a liability, not an asset. Still, being sidelined to evacuation duty while others fought the battle I’d brought to their doorstep felt wrong.
“What about Sophia?” I asked, looking over at my daughter who was still engrossed in Paw Patrol.
“She stays at the rally point with Alistair,” Ethan said, his tone softening slightly. “Maximum security, well outside any affected zone.”
I nodded, relief warring with the guilt of putting her through this at all. Alistair caught my eye across the table and gave me a small nod—a silent promise to protect her with his life.
“We move at sundown tonight,” Ethan concluded, checking his watch. “That gives us nine hours for prep and rest. Check your gear, check your comms, check your teammates. Once we start, there’s no backing out.”
As the team dispersed to their assigned preparations, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Trent stood beside me, his eyes holding a question I couldn’t quite decipher.
“It’s the right call,” he said quietly. “Keeping you and Sophia safe is?—“
“I know,” I cut him off, not wanting to hear the logic again. “But these are my neighbors. My friends. Beth was the kindest person in town, and now she’s...” My voice caught. “I’m tired of running, Trent. I want to fight.”
He turned me toward him. “You are fighting. Just not with a gun.” He pulled me into his chest. For just a moment, I allowed myself this comfort—his heartbeat under my ear, his hand stroking my hair, the rumble of his voice in his chest as he spoke. “I need you safe. I’ve already lost you once,” he murmured into my hair. “I can’t do it again.”
I closed my eyes, letting his words sink in. The solid warmth of him anchored me when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control. My neighbors turned into puppets, my daughter traumatized, my carefully constructed life shattered—yet here was Trent, steady as the mountains surrounding us.
“Aw, look at that,” Nolan called from across the room. “Turns out our brick wall has a squishy center after all.”
“Nolan,” Trent growled, not releasing me.
“What? I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.” Nolan grinned, completely unrepentant.
“Besides, some of us find your transformation from emotionless robot to lovesick puppy quite heartwarming,” Flynn added, wrapping an arm around Lyric’s waist. “You know, since you spent six months insisting you didn’t need anyone.”
I felt Trent’s chest rise with a deep breath, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his arms tightened around me just slightly.
“Enough,” Ethan said, his voice cutting through the teasing. “Gear check in twenty. Everyone focus.”
The team dispersed, but not before several of them shot knowing smiles in our direction. I reluctantly stepped back from Trent’s embrace, already missing his warmth.
“Your friends are... interesting,” I said quietly.
