Kane knows this. He's not asking directly, but the implication sits clear in his message.
We have relevant skills and experience. Our involvement could increase mission success. And three months of routine doesn't erase competence earned through years of dangerous work.
"That wasn't just an update," I say. "Kane's already calculating whether we're mission-essential."
"Probably." Dylan doesn't sound surprised. "And if he decides we are, we'll evaluate together. After we know more details, understand the risk profile, figure out whether ourinvolvement actually increases mission effectiveness or just makes us feel useful."
"Very rational."
"One of us has to be." He kisses my temple. "You're already halfway to buying plane tickets."
He's not wrong. The journalist instinct, the operational drive, the need to be where stories break and history happens. It doesn't turn off just because I found something worth protecting.
But Dylan's right about one thing. We decide together now. That means sharing risk, evaluating options jointly, respecting each other's competence and concerns.
My phone goes dark. Tomorrow, Kane will send more information. We'll evaluate with clear heads.
I look at Khalid's closed door. At Dylan beside me.
Then I pull up my old press credentials. The ones that got me into Eastern European intelligence circles before.
Just in case.
18
DYLAN
Kane's office sits at the heart of Echo Base, carved from the old mine supervisor's station. I've delivered mission reports here dozens of times, but the routine never gets old. Something about sitting across from the man who pulled me out of the darkness, accounting for every decision made in the field.
"Luxembourg operation went clean," I say, sliding the encrypted drive across his desk. "Financial records linking Committee shell companies to several banks. Chain of custody documented, evidence protocols followed. Delaney should be able to build prosecutable cases from what we recovered."
Kane picks up the drive, turns it over in his hand. The lines around his eyes are deeper than last month. Running Echo Ridge does that.
"Good work." He sets the drive aside. "Cross's Prague intel. You've reviewed it?"
"Reagan briefed me this afternoon. Committee assets reactivating Morrison's old financial hub. Webb personally coordinating."
"Not just reactivating." Kane pulls up a map on his monitor, satellite imagery overlaid with intelligence markers. Pragueglows red with activity nodes. "Cross sent additional data this morning. The Committee is meeting with Kosygin's people. Former FSB, organized crime connections, ties to Russian oligarchs. They're not just rebuilding. They're expanding."
I study the map, cataloging the distribution of markers. The pattern suggests coordination rather than coincidence. Multiple safe houses, transportation routes, financial institutions, all concentrated in a tight operational radius.
"Morrison's network took years to build," I say. "Webb can't replicate that overnight, even with Russian support."
"He doesn't need to replicate it. He needs to merge with something that already exists." Kane leans back in his chair. "Kosygin has infrastructure throughout Eastern Europe. Distribution networks, communication systems, personnel. What he lacks is Western contacts, institutional knowledge, the relationships Morrison spent decades cultivating."
"So they combine forces. Two networks becoming one."
"Stronger than either alone." Kane's expression hardens. "We cut off one head. Two more are growing."
The Committee isn't just one person. We killed Morrison, and Webb took over. If we kill Webb, someone else will step up. The structure persists regardless of who leads it.
"Then we keep cutting," I say.
"Eventually." Kane doesn't sound convinced. "The question is whether we can cut fast enough. Kosygin brings resources we haven't faced before. State-level intelligence capabilities, military-grade equipment, personnel trained by Russian special forces. Morrison and Webb had military backgrounds and intelligence assets, but Kosygin has an entire government apparatus behind him. This is a different kind of opposition."
"So we adapt."
"We do." Kane pulls a folder from his desk drawer, slides it toward me. "Prague surveillance operation. Two weeks, maybethree. Identify key players, map the network, document the merger as it happens. Intelligence gathering, not direct action."
