Ghost didn't turn, just nodded once. His shoulders felt heavier. Zero six hundred was also when the embedded journalist was supposed to show up. Someone with a camera and questions he didn't have patience for.
Outside, Ghost caught Torch by the arm.
"You feel that?" His voice stayed low.
Torch didn't hesitate. "Yeah. Like they were waiting on us."
"They had time to set up. Too much time."
Torch's gaze hardened. "What are you thinking?"
Ghost kept his voice quiet. "We dig. Quietly. Someone fed them information."
Torch stared at him for a long second before nodding. "Inside the fence."
"Inside the fence," Ghost repeated. The truth settled in his gut like a stone.
5
0600 came early, even for him. Ghost moved down the corridor with automatic precision, mind already expecting trouble. His boots hit the concrete in a quiet, measured beat. He knocked twice on the door, waited half a breath, then stepped inside.
Commander Anders sat behind his battered desk, a mug of black coffee cupped in one hand, casually flipping through an after action report with the other.
“Sir,” Ghost said.
“Come in. Sit.” CDR Anders flipped a page, eyes skimming the line before he finally gave Ghost his attention.
Ghost dropped into the chair opposite him, shoulders locked, face unreadable.
“I’ll get straight to it,” Anders said, closing the folder. “The embed is confirmed. Effective immediately.”
Ghost’s posture tightened. “Understood.”
“No argument?” CDR Anders asked.
“Not one that will change anything.” Ghost kept his tone even. “Rachel Parker. Four prior embeds. No classified clearance. Limited mission access.”
“Minimal friction,” CDR Anders repeated.
“That’s the note.” Ghost frowned. “Doesn’t make it smart.”
“She’s experienced, not some rookie with a press kit.”
“She’s not one of mine,” Ghost said quietly. “She doesn’t know our pace or how we communicate. Out there, that gap gets people hurt.”
CDR Anders pushed the folder a little closer. “She’s cleared Ghost. Treat her like classified material, keep her secure and intact.”
Ghost didn’t touch the file. “She adds risk.”
“You follow orders,” CDR Anders said. His tone stayed flat, but his eyes pinned Ghost to the spot. “Her placement came fromhigh up. She’s not here to write feel-good pieces. Someone wants a window into the work you boys do.”
Ghost blew out a slow breath through his nose. “So we are gambling on a photojournalist.”
“No.” CDR Anders leaned back. “I’m betting on you.” Then his voice softened by a fraction. “She’s already on base.”
Ghost’s attention shifted to the door. Pieces clicked into place. The folder. The early briefing. The way CDR Anders was braced, it was clear this wasn’t a discussion. He was being positioned.
At that moment of realization, the door creaked open.
