“Lock down the sector,” she orders someone off-mic. “Now. Seal gates. I want Security Forces on every exit and every camera feed pulled in real time.”
I move back into the lab as I talk, forcing my hands to stay steady while my blood tries to boil through my veins.
“I need security footage,” I say. “Now. Every corridor cam outside this lab. Every exterior door. Service exits. All of it.”
“Already pulling,” Chen says. “Hawthorne—listen to me. Do not go solo.”
I laugh once, sharp and humorless. “Ma’am, with respect,” I say, “I’m going.”
“Crewe.” She uses my first name like a command. “You will not compromise the base response.”
“I’m not compromising anything,” I say, voice low and lethal. “I’m retrievingmyasset.”
There’s a pause on the line.
Then her voice softens by half a degree—not kinder, just… more human. “She isn’t an asset.”
I close my eyes for a second, breathing once, hard. “No,” I say quietly. “She’s not.”
That’s the problem.
Because if she were just an asset, I could do the math. I could do the job. I could accept the risk.
But she’s Riley.
Riley who hates cheddar cheese like it personally insulted her.
Riley who held my hand like she wasn’t afraid of what she saw in me.
Riley who kissed me like she meant it.
Riley who fell asleep with her face tucked against my chest like she trusted my heartbeat more than her own thoughts.
My throat tightens.
“Crewe,” Chen says again, controlled. “We are mobilizing. We will find her. We will bring her back.”
“You can find her,” I say. “But I’m the one who brings her home.”
Silence.
Then, clipped and resigned: “Copy. Stand by. We’re getting eyes.”
I cut the call and move.
Not aimless—focused.
I check the lab door lock. I scan the floor. I track the smear again and follow it out into the corridor, one step at a time, keeping my head down like I’m just another man walking.
But my senses are on fire.
I find the second scuff at the corner.
Then a third.
Then a syringe. Fuck me.
My jaw locks.
