I wrap my arm over her shoulder and pull her against me to comfort her. “Are you okay?” She answers silently, nodding against my chest as the tent falls quiet again. Outside, on the other side of the canvas, someone laughs. It’s normal, casual, like the world isn’t rotting from the inside out.
“Mattis will find something,” I promise. “He’s a little out there, but he’s good.”
Her lips twitch into a ghost of a smile. “You have… um…interestingfriends.”
“Occupational hazard.” I lean against the cot frame, staring up at the dim glow overhead, as I drag her back with me. “He’s one of the best hackers alive and somehow still my biggest headache.” His recklessness is one of the biggest annoyances in my life—right after Jagger—but I’m thankful every day he’s here to be a pain in my ass.
Reese snorts softly, the sound barely there. It’s the first time I’ve heard her laugh since we stumbled upon the grave. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until now. It’s short-lived, her expression fading quickly. “What if they come after us again?”
“They will.” I regret my brutal honesty when she tenses against me, but she needs to know the truth. “But they’ll have to go through me first.”
She swallows so hard I can hear the gulp. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
I pull her tighter, tucking her snuggly under my arm. She splays her palm on my chest, rolling slightly to rest hercheek against me. My hand brushes hers before curling around it. “You need rest, baby. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you if Mattis calls.”
“Do you think he’ll find proof?”
“If it exists, he’ll find it.” She nods, trying to hide the tremor in her chin. She’s strong, but even steel bends under pressure. I want to promise her that nothing and no one will touch her again. But if I fail, it would be a lie. “Try to sleep.”
Her gaze lingers on me, soft but guarded. “You’ll stay?”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I’m right here. And one of us will be keeping watch all night.”
She nuzzles into me, and I stroke her hair as her breathing becomes more even. As I stare down at her, her lashes flutter with every minute that passes, and her eyelids grow heavier. We lie in silence until she falls asleep in my arms.
I glance at the flap, the fingers of my free hand brushing my pistol. The night beyond is still. Too still. I can feel it in my bones. Left alone with my thoughts, my mind drifts to Mattis, probably staring at over a dozen monitors with his fingers flying across keys. Then, to Reese, sleeping beside me.
She shifts in her sleep with her head resting beneath my chin, the soft rhythm of her breathing grounding me in a way nothing else can. Even here, surrounded by the darkness and silence that feels ready to break at any moment, she fits against me perfectly. Like she always did. My arm tightens around her instinctively, and for amoment, I let myself forget the danger waiting beyond the tent.
Her hair spills over her cheek and onto my chest. Tucking it behind her ear, I study the faint outline of her face in the low light. She’s different from the girl I left behind. But she’s still perfect. I never should’ve left her. The years we spent apart sit heavily on my chest—missed moments, wasted time, and the life we could have built together.
If we survive this—if the world gives us that chance—I swear I’ll make it right. I’ll make up for every day I wasn’t there. I’ll give her the kind of peace she’s always deserved, the kind that only exists when she’s in my arms.
The hum of Chris’s laptop is the only sound in the tent besides the restless shuffle of boots against the floor as the boys pace. It’s all they’ve been doing for days. Taking a break from wearing a groove in the floor, I’ve been staring at the same government screen for over an hour, the cursor blinking back at me like it’s mocking me for trying. Mattis and I have been talking for the last few minutes, comparing our minimal notes.
“Nothing?” Chris asks from across the tent, his voice a low rumble and laced with exhaustion. The four of them have been sleeping in shifts, ensuring two of them have eyes on me every minute of every day.
“Nothing,” I whisper, rubbing my eyes. “Every file is either conveniently missing or so redacted I can only read about five words of it.”
The connection crackles, and Mattis’s voice filters through the satellite feed. “It’s not your imagination, Reese. I’vebeen tracing the links for three days. There’s a full blackout over that sector. Even old data caches have been purged.”
I glance toward Chris, who’s crossing the distance between us with his arms folded across his chest. His expression is unreadable. “So, what you’re saying is that it’s like someone went through the internet with a damn vacuum cleaner?”
Mattis snorts at Chris’s ignorance of technology. “A very expensive vacuum cleaner. The kind that only the government agency you keep telling me not to hack or billion-dollar corporations can afford.”
I slump back in my chair, defeated. “So we’ve got nothing.”
“Not exactly.” The sound of furious typing fills the line. “How much do you know about the pipeline project?”
“Enough.” I shrug, even though he can’t see me. “They’re relocating locals to make room for it, and the Energy Ministry has been hyping it as a ‘national renewal initiative.’”
“Yeah. The revised construction route cutsdirectlythrough the province where your village was located. You don’t need a degree in political corruption to see what’s going on. The population was standing in the way of profit, and someone decided it was cheaper to erase them than to relocate them.”
My stomach twists at the possibility he could be right. “God.”
Chris pauses for a second and then starts pacing again, coiled tight and ready to explode. I can practically hear the gears turning in his mind—how to verify it, how to protect me, how to shut it all down before someone shutsusdown.
Mattis sighs through the static. “Look, I’ll keep digging. But whatever this is, it’s above my clearance level—and probably yours, too, Hawk.”
