Present Day
I get a call from someone I thought was dead.
Rhett Kane. Former Delta, supposedly killed in action during a black op that went sideways. Except he's very much alive, and he's offering me something I didn't know I still wanted: purpose.
Echo Ridge. A team of burned operators fighting the same organization that destroyed lives, ruined careers, killed innocent people. Kane wants me to join them, says my experience makes me valuable.
He doesn't mention Sarah. He doesn't have to. An unspoken reality sits between us on the phone line, heavy as guilt.
She's with Echo Ridge. She has been since her escape. And if I join, I'll have to face her eventually.
I'll face the woman I abandoned when she needed me most.
I tell Kane I'll think about it. I spend days trying to convince myself to decline. I spend more days knowing I won't.
Because the mission isn't finished. They're still operating, still hurting people, still need to be stopped. And if I can do that,if I can help protect the team that Sarah has apparently found family with, maybe I can balance the scales slightly.
I call Kane back and accept.
He tells me to come to Montana, gives me coordinates to a location that officially doesn't exist, and says the team will brief me on current operations and get me integrated into their network.
He says Sarah knows I'm coming.
That last part stops me. "How'd she take it?"
Kane's quiet for a long moment. "She's professional. She'll work with you."
Professional. Not happy. Not forgiving.
The flight to Montana gives me too much time to think. To plan what I'll say when I see her. To imagine scenarios, none of them good.
By the time I land, I've given up on planning. There's no script for this. No training that covers facing someone you failed when they needed you most.
The coordinates lead me to a mountainside that looks like nothing special until I get close enough to see the concealed entrance. Echo Base. Hidden facility, state-of-the-art security, exactly what burned operators would build if they wanted to wage war on the people who betrayed them.
I approach the entrance with my credentials in hand and my heart somewhere in my throat. The comm system crackles to life, and the voice that comes through is professional. Controlled. Voice I remember from late nights and careful conversations, except now it's wrapped in ice.
"Ghost, you're clear to enter. Welcome to Echo Base."
Sarah. Alive. Safe. Here.
I can hear the hatred in every syllable.
I key the comm. "Copy. Coming in."
The blast door opens with a hiss of hydraulics. My jaw locks. I keep my hands steady on my gear, heartbeat anything but, and step inside.
6
SARAH
The alert comes through in the dead of night, a soft ping on a system I haven't checked in well over a year.
I'm alone in the comms hub, reviewing signal intercepts from the past week. Multiple monitors glow in the dim space, casting blue light across the desk and making shadows dance on the concrete walls. Outside this bubble of technology, Echo Base sleeps. Inside, I'm surrounded by the quiet hum of equipment and the occasional click of cooling fans.
The notification appears on my secondary monitor.
Dead drop seven.
