0541 Hours
The name I buried doesn’t stay buried.
Not after Roscov says it.
Not after the way his voice changed.
Aaron watches me carefully. “Ronan… what did he mean?”
I scan the ridgeline to confirm perimeter security before answering.
“Before Delta Five,” I say, “I led a unit that didn’t officially exist.”
Miles goes still. “Black command?”
“Blacker,” I answer.
The memory surfaces—unwanted, sharp.
A different mountain.
A different war.
A team that never wore patches and never came home together.
“We were deployed to dismantle networks,” I continue. “Not capture. Not negotiate. Remove.”
Jase’s voice is quiet now.“That was you?”
“Yes.”
Aaron swallows. “You were the one who took down the Carpathian Syndicate.”
“And the Volkov Ring,” Miles adds, stunned.
“And the Odessa Corridor,” Jase finishes.
I don’t correct him.
Because I did.
Roscov didn’t study me by accident.
He survived my past command.
Barely.
“That unit was disbanded after a leak,” I say. “Someone sold our identities and killed my men.”
A muscle ticks in my jaw.
“We were ordered to stand down. Walk away. Pretend it never happened.”
“And you did?” Aaron asks.
“For a while.”
I glance toward Lena’s shelter.
