Then I leave her sleeping and head toward the staging area. The corridors are quiet this late, just the hum of ventilation and the soft echo of my boots on steel flooring. Emergency lighting casts everything in red, painting the walls in shades of old blood. Echo Base at rest, the mountain breathing around us.
Hawthorne is loading gear into the tactical vehicle when I arrive. Kane reviews final intelligence packets with Sarah. Tommy has communications equipment staged and ready. Hawthorne checks his weapons with the same methodical precision I recognize in myself.
"Ready?" I ask.
"The trail's still warm. I need to move before Reeve gets too far ahead." He secures the last equipment bag. "I'll send updates through encrypted channels. If Reeve's still active, I'll confirm and track. If Webb pulled him, you'll know soon."
"And if he's freelancing?"
"Then I'll handle it." Hawthorne's expression doesn't change, but the promise is clear. "One way or another, Reeve stops being your problem."
Kane steps forward. "You have Echo Ridge support for extraction if needed. Don't try to be a hero."
"Wouldn't dream of it." Hawthorne climbs into the vehicle, then pauses. "Take care of Rachel and Lucas. They've been through enough."
"I will."
"Good." He starts the engine. "See you when I see you."
The vehicle pulls out through the primary entrance, heading into the Montana night. We watch until the door closes behind him, sealing Echo Base once again.
Kane turns to me. "You made the right call. Staying instead of going."
"Yeah." I head back toward quarters where Rachel is sleeping. "I did."
The corridors are quiet. I pass Khalid's room where Lucas is sleeping, Odin's soft breathing audible through the door.
When I reach our quarters, Rachel hasn't moved. Still curled in the warm spot I left, her hair spread across the pillow. I strip off my tactical gear and slide back into bed beside her.
She stirs, rolling into me without waking. Her hand finds my chest, settling over my heart.
This is what I'm fighting for now. Not ideology or revenge or orders from command.
This.
21
RACHEL
Life at Echo Base settles into a rhythm that almost resembles normal.
Almost.
Dylan sits in the medical bay with his arm still in a sling, arguing with Willa about when he can return to full operational status. His shoulder is healing clean, the wound from Kessler's operative knitting together with the kind of speed that comes from good genes and Willa's competent care.
"Another week minimum," Willa says, not looking up from the wound she's cleaning. "The tissue needs time."
"It's been over a week already." Dylan shifts in the chair, wincing slightly. "I can shoot. I can move. I'm operational."
"You're operational when I clear you." Willa applies fresh bandages with efficient movements. "Unless you want to tear the healing tissue and spend another month in this chair."
"Has anyone ever told you that you're terrifying?"
"Frequently. Kane tells me it's one of my best qualities." Willa secures the bandage and steps back. "One more week. Then we'll reassess."
Dylan catches my eye from across the medical bay and grins. "At least I'm not the only one getting shot anymore. Stryker's turn next, probably."
Dylan stands carefully, favoring the shoulder. "How's Lucas doing with all this? Kid's been through a lot."
