"No sir." But the corner of his mouth lifted. "Just noting the dedication to transparency."
Torch coughed into his fist, might've been covering a laugh. "Anything specific you need us to brief her on, or you got it covered?"
Ghost's jaw set. "I got it."
"Roger that." Torch's grin was barely suppressed. "We'll maintain radio discipline."
Ghost turned without responding. Rachel followed.
Once they were out of earshot, she glanced at him. "They always that subtle?"
"That was subtle." His voice was dry. "Usually they're worse."
"And you brought me anyway."
He looked at her sideways. "Figured you could handle it."
They moved on, passing Rogue and two others shifting gear with quiet efficiency. Rachel raised her camera, grateful for something to do with her hands besides feel self-conscious.
Ghost watched her line up the shot, the way she frowned in concentration, bottom lip caught between her teeth. Moonlight caught the dust on her cheek. He'd stopped pretending he wasn't noticing these things.
"You always this serious when you're working?" His voice came out low.
Rachel didn't look up. "Only when I'm trying to make grumpy SEALs look heroic."
That pulled a rare half-smile from him, real, unguarded. “If you get the angle right, I might even sign a copy.”
She smirked, still behind the viewfinder. “Careful, Hayes. That almost sounded like a compliment.”
“Almost,” he echoed, his tone softer now, something lingering in it. Something she felt too much. She shifted the strap on her shoulder and winced. It was subtle, barely a flinch, but he saw it.
“You good?” he asked, voice quiet.
“Fine,” she said without looking up.
He knew that answer too well. Knew what it looked like when someone pushed through pain like it didn’t matter, like slowing down meant failing. He didn’t push, just adjusted his steps again until they matched hers exactly.
She caught the shift in his profile. “So, do you normally volunteer for journalist-sitting duty?”
He kept his eyes forward,lips twitching. “Only when the journalist’s cute.”
That earned him a look. “Cute?” she echoed.
His gaze met hers and held. “Don’t make me say it twice.”
She looked away first, a smile tugging at her lips even as she fought to bury it.
Ghost’s hand drifted just close enough to brush hers, knuckles grazing air.
He walked her through the perimeter, rotation schedules, vulnerable points, blind corners. His voice stayed calm and methodical.
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture was quiet, thoughtless, but his eyes tracked it anyway.
The perimeter opened wide and quiet. Ghost’s voice dropped. “I keep thinking about what you said the other night.”
Rachel slowed, just enough for him to notice.
“You told me about Daniel,” he said. “About wanting to see what he saw. That made sense. But this, coming back again and again, it’s more than just honoring him.”
