"He's resilient." I watch Willa clean her instruments. "Nightmares are less frequent. He's eating better. Khalid's been good for him."
"Khalid's good for everyone." Dylan heads toward the door, pausing. "And Stryker? How's that going?"
Dylan knows what it means to love someone in this world. Knows what it costs.
"We're figuring it out," I say.
"Good." He disappears into the corridor, leaving me alone with Willa.
She finishes sterilizing instruments before speaking. "Stryker's a good man. Doesn't let many people close, but when he does, he's all in."
"I know."
"Do you?" Willa turns to face me. "Because loving an operator isn't easy. The missions, the danger, the things they don't want to talk about but you make them talk about anyway. It takes a specific kind of strength. And eight years ago you were both different people." Her voice is gentle but direct. "You've survived things that would break most people. He's spent those years becoming someone who lives for the mission. Make sure you're both ready for what that means."
"We are," I say finally. "Present tense. As we are now."
Willa nods once. "Good. Then you'll be fine."
I head toward operations where Kane is reviewing intelligence reports with Tommy. Sarah is monitoring communications from her console. The base hums withcontrolled activity, everyone moving through their assigned tasks.
Kane looks up when I enter. "Rachel. Good timing. Cross just sent updated intel."
He pulls up files on the tactical display. Committee communications, financial transfers, operational reassignments. The data tells a story I've learned to read over the past weeks.
"Webb's pulling back," Kane says. "Committee leadership questioned the resource expenditure. One high-value operative lost, secured testimony making Lucas worthless as leverage, media attention creating unwanted scrutiny. The cost-benefit analysis doesn't support continued pursuit."
"What's the assessment?"
"Immediate threat neutralized. Webb remains dangerous as an ongoing antagonist, but his focus has shifted. Lucas is no longer a priority target." Kane's voice softens slightly. "Your son is safe. As safe as anyone can be in this world."
The words hit harder than expected. Safe. After running, hiding, and watching my son live in fear, the concept feels almost foreign.
"And Reeve?"
"Hawthorne's tracking him. Last communication confirmed Reeve is still mobile but showing signs of standing down. No engagement yet." Kane closes the files. "We'll know more when Hawthorne reports in."
"So it's over."
"The immediate crisis is over. The Committee still exists. Webb is still out there. But you and Lucas are off the target list." Kane's voice softens slightly. "You can breathe, Rachel. You've earned it."
I find Stryker in the training room, running drills with precision that speaks to years of muscle memory. He movesthrough the course with controlled aggression, each strike calculated, each movement economical. Watching him work is like watching a weapon maintain itself.
He notices me in the doorway and stops mid-sequence. "Hey. Everything okay?"
"Kane says we're clear. Webb pulled back. Lucas is off the target list."
Stryker crosses to where I'm standing, sweat dampening his shirt. "You believe it?"
"I want to." I lean against the doorframe. "But I've learned not to trust safety."
"Smart." He grabs a towel, wiping his face. "The Committee doesn't stop existing just because Webb shifted focus. They're still out there. Still dangerous. But they're not coming after Lucas anymore."
"What about you? What happens now?"
"What do you want to happen?"
I need to think about this. What do I want? For him to stop being an operator? To give up missions and danger and everything that makes him who he is? That's not realistic and wouldn't be fair.
