I rise, grab my phone off the counter.
“You need what? A laptop? Tablet? Power cords?”
She blinks—surprised. Looks down, like she’s just now realizing she has nothing.
“Yes, please. A laptop, if you have one.”
I nod once and cross to the sideboard, flip open the gear bag. Pull out the slim black laptop I pre-loaded before the op—secure, firewalled, stripped clean except for tools she’ll need.
Drop it on the table in front of her.
“Yours,” I say. “No connection to the outside. Local only. Runs clean.”
She looks at it as if I just handed her the keys to a weaponized vault.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” My voice drops. “Whatever’s on that drive, I want you to find it first.”
Her throat moves as she swallows. “Thank you.”
I nod. Nothing more.
Then, “I’ll be in the other room.”
She gives me a look I can’t quite read. Like she wants to say something but doesn’t know how.
So I don’t wait.
I walk out—leaving her with the tools, the silence, and the fire we both haven’t finished lighting.
In the bedroom, I leave the door cracked. In case she needs me.
I call Ghost. He answers on the first ring.
“Status,” Ghost demands.
“We’re in,” I say. “Safe house secure. Perimeter quiet.”
“You good?”
“Package intact. No tails. No contact since the Metro. What’s our extraction window?”
“Forty-eight to seventy-two hours.”
“Damn. Long time to wait.”
A pause.
“We’re working on extraction protocols. Something Phoenix can’t track.”
“Makes sense.”
“How’s the target?”
I glance toward the hall. Still quiet. Still her.
“She’s working,” I say.
