No, it doesn't. The suspension, the federal charges—I can handle those. But putting Jackie in Haywood's crosshairs and hoping we're fast enough to protect her? Different weight entirely.
And it's the only play we have left.
13
SELA
The words come out before I've fully thought them through.
"Use me instead."
The cabin goes silent. Finn looks up. Cara stops typing. Calder's attention snaps to me. Marc's expression shifts from exhaustion to something cold, predatory.
"No."
He's going to fight me on this. I need to make him see it operationally, not personally. Frame it as tactics, not sacrifice.
"Haywood's contractors already threatened me specifically on that phone call. I'm a known target." I stand, walk over to Calder's tactical map still glowing on her tablet. "Jackie's been through enough. She's trying to rebuild her life. But I'm already in this, already marked."
"Which is exactly why—" Marc starts.
"Which is why it makes tactical sense." I cut him off, meet his gaze. "Haywood knows I have access to Emma's files. He knows I called the Bureau. He sees me surface in Anchorage, he has to move immediately or risk me testifying."
Calder's watching me with careful assessment. "You understand what you're proposing? You'd be bait against the same contractors who tried to kill you."
"I understand." My pulse kicks up but my voice stays steady. "I also understand that Jackie didn't volunteer for any of this. She was trafficked, traumatized, and she's been hiding for years. Asking her to paint a target on her back again?" I shake my head. "That's not right."
"Neither is putting you in the crosshairs," Marc says quietly. His shoulders are tight.
"I'm already there. At least this way, we control when and where it happens."
Finn speaks up from his position by the window. "She's not wrong. Sela's a fresher threat. Haywood heard her on that call coordinating with Calder. He knows she's actively working against him right now, not just a witness from three years ago."
"Plus she's medical personnel," Cara adds. "If Haywood thinks she has Emma's files, can interpret the medical evidence as a trauma nurse, and she's talked to at least one of the victims?—"
"He'll panic," Calder finishes. "Move faster and sloppier than he would for Jackie."
Marc watches me, reading something I'm not sure I want him to see. The fear, probably. Or worse—the determination that outweighs it.
"A controlled operation," Calder says, already pulling up coordinates. "Anchorage, public location that his people monitor. We wire Sela for audio and video, position surveillance teams in overlapping coverage. The second contractors make contact, we document everything."
"And when they try to grab her?" Marc's voice has edges I haven't heard before.
"Intervention team moves in. We take them alive, get them on record naming Haywood as the one who ordered the hit." She taps the screen. "DOJ wants real-time conspiracy evidence. This gives it to them."
"It also risks Sela's life."
"Everything we're doing risks someone's life." I move closer to Marc, want him to understand this isn't recklessness. "At least I'm choosing it. At least I know what I'm walking into."
He searches my face. Whatever he finds there doesn't seem to satisfy him, but he gives a sharp nod.
"I'm on the intervention team. Non-negotiable."
"Agreed," Calder says. "You'll be positioned nearby but out of sight. We can't spook the contractors before they make their move."
Calder makes calls. Cara unpacks equipment. Finn studies maps. The operation takes shape—body camera disguised as a coat button, audio transmitter wired into my bra, the location chosen: a coffee shop blocks from the federal building, visible from multiple angles, defensible but not obviously so.
Marc doesn't speak much during the planning. He cleans his rifle with methodical precision, checks his sidearm, runs through gear with the focused intensity of someone preparing for combat. Each movement is deliberate, controlled. The click of the magazine, the slide of metal on metal. The familiar rhythm of a soldier going to war.
