The door opened slowly, and her pulse ticked faster.
Major General Clayton Grady emerged alone.
He looked older than she remembered. Grayer at the temples, yes, but it was more than that. There was a sag to his shoulders, a heaviness in the way he shut the car door. The desert wind tugged at his jacket. His boots scuffed over dry earth like he’d been carrying more than just his weight for a long, long time.
He removed his cap and held it in his hand as he approached.
No one said a word.
Not until he stood ten feet away and stopped.
“Thanks for meeting me,” he said. His voice was low, like it had been worn down by weeks of silence. “I realize this is a bit unusual, but I don’t know who I can trust.”
Tonka stopped pacing. Pipe stepped forward slightly but didn’t speak.
Lark crossed her arms. “The question is, can we trust you, because from where I’m standing, I’m not so sure.”
Grady’s lips curved into a grim smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Right now, I’m the only one you should trust.”
Kawan motioned toward the bench. “Sit. We’re listening.”
Grady obeyed without argument. He sank onto the bench with the bone-deep fatigue of someone who hadn’t slept in a week—or a lifetime. He rubbed a hand over his face, then dropped it to his lap. When he looked up again, his eyes met Lark’s. “Before we start… I’m sorry,” he said simply. “I know that doesn’t make up for anything. But I needed you to hear it anyway. What happened to your team—what happened out there—shouldn’t have gone down the way it did.”
Lark didn’t flinch. “And yet it did, and something tells me you could’ve stopped it.”
“No. I couldn’t,” Grady said.
“But you were the one giving orders,” Thor said. “You pulled me and my men in at the last minute with no real directive. Support and evac. Not a real good mission plan if you ask me.”
“It’s all I could do.” Grady inclined his head slightly. “I’ve been trying to untangle this mess long before I sent you in. You were my last hope.”
“That’s not making much sense,” Thor said, tone low but firm. “We want answers. Not excuses.”
“Lorre’s losing his mind.” Grady exhaled. “Torin and Bretton have gone completely dark.”
Kawan’s jaw clenched. “We already knew that.”
Grady nodded. “Colonel Amber and I set the ball rolling on this op long before Lorre got involved.”
“I didn’t know that,” Thor said.
“You didn’t need to. He left before I even assembled my team.” The memory stung. At the time, it wasn’t because she hadn’t trusted Lorre, but more because everything hadoriginated with Dustin. One morning, they were sitting around the conference table, wargaming the mission, and the next morning, he’d been replaced.
“Major General, do you know why Bretton was at the meeting? Or Bradford for that matter?” Kawan asked.
“No. I had no idea until Lorre sent me a freeze-frame from the surveillance footage.” Grady scrubbed a hand over his face.
Lark stole a glance at Kawan, who frowned.
Pipe narrowed his gaze. “What did Lorre have to say about that?”
Grady snorted. “Said it was unmistakable evidence that something had gone off script. Asked if I’d embedded Bretton myself.”
“And did you?” Tonka asked.
“No.” Grady’s voice sharpened. “That wouldn’t have been my call to make. Besides, I was too far removed from the situation, and Bretton was too deep undercover. Only Lark’s team could have had any communication with him, and that was limited.”
“I’ve got a dumb question,” Kawan said. “When did Lorre get the footage? I don’t remember us sending it to him. Did we?” He glanced toward Lark.
