"Ambitious."
"Necessary." Our eyes lock. "The Committee won't stop hunting Echo Ridge. Webb sees us as an existential threat. We either get ahead of them or we're fighting a defensive war until they get lucky and kill us all."
Sarah holds my gaze for a long moment. Understanding dawns in her eyes—we're committed to the same fight now, regardless of personal history.
"Then we better make sure this restructure works," she says finally.
"We will. You're the best signals intelligence analyst I've ever worked with. I've got operational security experience from the years embedded in Committee networks. Together, we can build something they can't penetrate."
"Confident."
"Realistic." I move closer, dropping my voice. "I've seen what you can do, Sarah. What we can do together when we're not fighting each other. This is what we're good at. Let's prove it."
Color rises in her cheeks, but she doesn't look away. "You're different than you were."
"Years of deep cover changes people."
"Not just that." She examines me like she's analyzing an intercept pattern. "You're harder. More certain. Less apologetic about who you are."
"I left the CIA because I was tired of apologizing for doing what needed to be done." I'm simplifying years of moral calculations into one sentence. "Being Ghost meant carrying guilt for operational necessities. Being here means I can stop pretending the work doesn't cost something."
Sarah's expression softens slightly. "And us? What does being here mean for us?"
"It means I'm not going anywhere unless you physically throw me out." I echo what I told her earlier, letting her hear the promise underneath. "It means I choose you and this team over any mission the CIA could offer. It means we figure out how to be partners again, both professionally and personally."
"That's a lot to figure out while restructuring an entire intelligence network and planning an operation against a Committee kill team."
"Good thing we work well under pressure."
Her face flushes. "Micah."
"Sarah." I refuse to apologize for the heat between us. "We crossed a line tonight. We both know it. Pretending otherwise while we work marathon shifts in close quarters would be dishonest."
"Cross sent another file," Sarah says, pulling up the new data. "Updated location tracking on Reeve's team. They've moved closer."
I bend over her shoulder to see the screen. Reeve's search pattern has tightened further. The search radius now sits uncomfortably close to Echo Base's mountain.
"He's systematic," I say. "Working a grid pattern, eliminating low-probability locations methodically. If he maintains this pace, he'll locate Echo Base within days."
"Which means we're out of time." Sarah's voice tightens. "The network restructure will take days. We can't complete it before Reeve potentially compromises our location."
"Then we accelerate the operation against him." I access my tactical assessment. "Kane, Dylan, Stryker, and Mercer hit Reeve's team before they can complete the search. Fast insertion, eliminate the threat, destroy the SIGINT equipment, extract before the Committee can respond with reinforcements."
"That's a lot of variables."
"It's what we do. The alternative is abandoning Echo Base. Starting over somewhere else. Losing everything the team has built here."
Sarah's jaw tightens. "That's not an option."
"Then we trust the team to handle Reeve while you and I handle the network restructure. Parallel operations. Both have to succeed."
She turns to face me. We're close enough that I can see her eyes clearly. Close enough to feel the heat radiating from her skin.
"This is going to be hard," she says quietly.
"Which part? The marathon of technical work or dealing with each other while we do it?"
"Both."
