He circles around the nose and slides into the pilot’s seat. The realization hits me that Hawk doesn’t just move assets. He flies them away.
As I settle into the helicopter, I glance back.The elevator doors move.Close, then open again. Someone below is forcing the call.
The engine pitch rises. Hawk’s voice comes through the headset he’s tossed back to me.
“Strap in.”
He lifts us cleanly into the night as if he’s done it a hundred times before. Perhaps he has. The rooftop lights blur beneath us. The city drops away in a rush of wind and vibration.
I press my bare feet against the floor and look out over Cupid City. From above, everything looks harmless, festive and beautiful. You would never guess what moves through it. Because if the man in the ballroom was not a ghost but a message, then this was not just a change of route. It was an extraction.
Which means the last job isn’t just a job anymore.
It’s a war.
And I’m flying with a man who has no idea what he’s just lifted into the sky.
Chapter 3
Hawk
The city falls away beneath us in sheets of light. I don’t look at her first. I check altitude. Wind. Fuel. Clearance path. Rotor rhythm settles into something clean and predictable. The kind of vibration that tells you the machine is behaving. I like machines that behave. People rarely do.
Command crackles in my ear.
“Corridor breach confirmed. Two unidentified.”
“Copy,” I say.
If someone forced the elevator call, this wasn’t coincidence. This was a close call.
I adjust heading ten degrees north and climb. Below, Cupid City pretends nothing happened. Above, it’s just air.
I finally glance back. She’s strapped in, barefoot still with her gown gathered in her lap. She’s not a trembling woman who’s being rescued. There’s no wide-eyed shock. Definitely not the demeanor of a frightened socialite. Katerina has the posture of someone measuring distance while being flown through the air. That … is interesting.
“You surprised?” I ask through the headset.
Her gaze shifts to mine without hesitation. “About the helicopter?”
“Yes.”
“Not totally.”
That answer sits wrong. Most people would say yes.
I bank slightly to avoid a low cloud layer and feel the subtle shift of her weight with the turn. She doesn’t grip the seat. Bracing with her legs, I notice that’s training. Her file didn’t say anything about training.
It said: high-value client. Political ties. Use Discretion.
It did not say: operational awareness.
I replay the ballroom when she entered. I noticed her scan pattern. The moment she saw someone she didn’t want to see. She didn’t flinch. She recalculated. That’s not fear. That’s experience.
“Who was he?” I ask.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Wrong answer, but I don’t push it. Not yet.
