And he intended to make sure it did.
Chapter 14
Jack gritted his teeth as the federal agents helped him transfer from the hospital bed to a wheelchair, every careful movement sending fresh waves of pain through his injured shoulder. The wound throbbed with a deep, grinding heat that radiated down his arm and into his chest, a reminder that his body had not caught up with the urgency of the situation. The surgeon had been clear—he needed rest, immobility, time. What he was being prepared for now offered none of those things.
But there was no scenario in which he stayed behind while Annie Whitaker walked into danger alone.
“Detective, you don’t have to do this,” Agent Chen said as one of her agents adjusted the sling, supporting his arm. “We can handle the operation without you.”
Jack forced himself to breathe through the pain before answering. “With respect, Agent Chen, you don’t know these people the way I do. I’ve been inside their patterns for days now. I’ve watched how they move, how they escalate, how they calculate risk.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “And I know Annie. I know exactly what she’s willing to walk into if she believes it’s the right thing to do.”
Chen studied him for a moment, as if weighing the cost of arguing against the reality in his voice.
The evacuation route took them through service corridors and freight elevators, far from the public wings of the hospital. Even so, Jack caught fractured glimpses of the chaos they were leaving behind. Armed hospital security clustered at corridor intersections. Gurneys were being rushed through side halls. A nurse stood pressed against a wall, one hand shaking as she spoke urgently into a phone. This was no longer a containment. It was a crisis.
“How many?” Jack asked quietly as they reached the parking garage.
“Six confirmed injured so far,” Chen replied. “Three security guards, two nurses, one physician who was caught between floors.”
Jack closed his eyes briefly. Six people whose only mistake had been showing up to work. Six lives pulled into violence because a family had spent a century protecting a lie.
They helped him into the back of an unmarked federal SUV, the seat cool and firm beneath him. Chen took the front passenger seat, already speaking into her radio, absorbing updates, issuing clipped instructions. Jack listened to the coded exchanges and felt the familiar tightening in his chest that came whenever a situation grew too large, too fast.
“Where are we taking Annie?” he asked.
“She’s already en route to the same secure location,” Chen said. “Full protection detail. She’s as safe as we can make her.”
Jack looked out the window as the vehicle pulled away from the hospital. He’d spent most of his career knowing that “safe” was a temporary condition. Determined people with resources and time could reach almost anyone. Sarah Mitchell had already proven that.
The safe house sat in a quiet suburban neighborhood, indistinguishable from the others on the street—neatly trimmed lawn, pale siding, a porch light just beginning to glow in the late afternoon. But Jack noticed the details immediately: the reinforced doorframe, the discreet exterior cameras, the way two agents casually occupied the neighboring driveway under the guise of talking beside a car.
Inside, the former living room had been converted into a temporary command center. Monitors glowed along one wall. Maps and building schematics were spread across folding tables. Radios crackled constantly, the low murmur of coordination filling the space.
Annie stood near the center of it, speaking quietly with one of the agents. She looked exhausted, strands of hair slipping loose from whatever quick tie she’d used, but her posture was steady, her attention focused. When she saw him, relief crossed her face before she masked it.
“How are you feeling?” she asked as they helped him into a chair.
“Like I made a series of questionable life choices involving gunfire and a mountainside,” he said faintly. “But I’m here.”
She exhaled, a sound that carried more emotion than she probably intended. “You’re supposed to be in a hospital bed.”
“And you’re supposed to be running as far from this as possible,” he replied. “Seems neither of us is good at following orders.”
He accepted the medication one of the agents offered, grateful for the dulling edge it brought without fully clouding his mind. Then he looked past her to the map Agent Chen was spreading across the table.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
Chen pointed to several marked locations. “We’ve identified possible sites for a controlled exchange.”
“Exchange?” Jack repeated, and then he saw Annie’s face.
Understanding hit.
“You’re using the locket,” he said slowly. “And you.”
“I’m using the locket,” Annie corrected, her voice calm. “I’m just the one who carries it.”
“No.” Jack pushed against the arms of the chair, pain flaring hot and bright. “Absolutely not. They’ve already tried to kill you. They burned your shop. They beat your uncle nearly to death. They turned a hospital into a hunting ground. You are not walking into another trap.”
