After dinner, Khalid retreats to his quarters to finish homework while Reagan and I return to ours. She goes back to her research, adding new data to the target packages she's building. I sit on the edge of our bed, watching her work.
The Committee isn't destroyed. Webb is still out there, building something new. Kosygin represents a threat we haven't faced before.
But Echo Base is secure. The team is operational. The work continues.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. Kane's ID on the screen. I answer on the second ring.
"New development," Kane says without preamble. "Webb's moving faster than we anticipated. Money transfers accelerating, personnel repositioning. Whatever's happening in Prague, it's happening soon."
"How soon?"
"Days, not weeks. I need a team on the ground as fast as we can get you there." A pause. "You ready to deploy?"
I look at Reagan. She's turned from her laptop, watching me. She nods once, the gesture small but certain.
"We're ready," I say. "Both of us."
"Good. Briefing at oh-six-hundred. We'll coordinate insertion and establish cover identities." Kane's voice carries the weight of command. "Get some rest. You'll need it."
The call ends. Reagan crosses the room, settles beside me on the bed.
"That's fast," she says.
"Webb's accelerating. Kane thinks the merger's happening sooner than projected."
"Then we accelerate too." She's already thinking ahead, I can see it in her eyes. "I'll finalize the target packages tonight. Make sure Tommy's files are ready to deploy the moment we find access."
"You should sleep."
"So should you." She tilts her head, studying me. "But you won't, will you? You'll sit in that chair by the door and watch until morning."
She knows me too well. "Old habits."
"I'm not complaining." She leans against my shoulder. "It's one of the things I love about you. The way you protect what matters."
The words settle into me, warm and unexpected. Love. We've said it before, in quiet moments between crises. But hearing it now, on the edge of another mission, another risk, carries a different weight.
"I'm coming back," I tell her. "We both are."
"I know." Her breathing slows against my chest. "I know."
I don't move. Just hold her and listen to the base settling around us, the quiet hum of ventilation, the distant footsteps of night watch making rounds.
Down the corridor, Khalid's light went out a while ago. Odin's soft breathing carries through the wall. The dog sleeps at the foot of Khalid's bed every night, has since the beginning. Willa jokes that she lost custody months ago.
Tomorrow, briefings and cover identities. Prague. Whatever's waiting for us there.
I ease Reagan down onto the pillow, pull the blanket over her shoulders. Then I move to the chair by the door, the one with an unobstructed sightline the entrance.
Old habits. But the reasons are different now.
I settle in to watch, and plan, and wait for morning.
19
REAGAN
Prague in winter smells like roasted chestnuts from street vendors. I've been here three times before, chasing stories that never quite panned out, but the city feels different now. Sharper. I've learned to check reflections in shop windows, note who lingers too long at newspaper stands.
