She didn’t know if this would reach him. Didn’t know who might intercept it. Who might already be listening. “I don’t know who to trust. I don’t know if they’re watching you too. What if… what if someone close to you is involved?”
Her voice cracked. It wasn’t weakness. It was too much truth pressing through all at once. “You need to protect yourself. If anything were to happen to you, I…” She broke off.
A sharp rustling nearby made her flinch. Her body tensed, eyes straining through the hedge. Footsteps. Closer now.
Her heart hammered. She gripped the phone harder, forcing herself to breathe. She had to finish. “If you get this… just know that I—I wanted to hear your voice one more time.”
Another sound—harder. A footstep in the gravel. Rachel’s body coiled. She whispered, “I have to go. Stay safe, Logan.”
She ended the call. Silence dropped around her like a weighted shroud.
Her hand shook as she lowered the phone. She pressed herself deeper into the dirt, the smell of crushed leaves overwhelming. Forced herself motionless, every muscle rigid.
The night felt different now. Heavier. More alert. They were searching, and she was running out of time.
Rachel’s lungs dragged in one more breath, then she pushed up from the ground, slow and silent. She couldn’t stay hidden forever.
She scanned the hedges, the walkway, the stairwells. The breezeway gate was too far. The laundry room light hadshut off. No cover left. Her fingers curled around the strap of her bag, and she moved.
Crawling fast and low along the edge of the shrubs, then sprinting across the narrow stretch of exposed lawn between buildings. Her feet hit pavement quietly, almost silent. Muscle memory from Kabul kicked in. Her body knew what to do.
A shout behind her. Muffled, sharp. She ducked behind the maintenance box and pressed flat against the back wall. Her breath came too fast. A bead of sweat traced her spine.
The back gate was locked. No time to scale it. She turned instead, breath ragged, and ran the opposite direction, bare feet slapping concrete, silk nightgown clinging damp to her thighs. The corner hedge near the property line opened toward the street.
She ducked through it and sprinted barefoot across the asphalt, gravel biting into her heels. The soles of her feet burned. A broken beer bottle gleamed near the curb, she missed it by inches.
She dropped low behind a rusted SUV, panting, chest heaving. Her back pressed hard against the wheel well. The night was cooler here. Still. But her body wouldn’t stop shaking.
From here, she could see her building. Third window from the left. Her blinds were drawn, but the flicker of flashlights inside was unmistakable. They were still searching.
She stayed flat and silent, her body tucked small behind the vehicle. Her knees scraped, legs trembling from the run, the cold, the adrenaline.
Inside her apartment, one of the shadows passed close to the glass. Another tossed something. Her bookshelf, maybe. More movement. She watched, pulse thudding in her ears.
Ten minutes passed. Maybe fifteen. Every second felt longer than the last.
Then finally, movement at the front door.
Three men. One after another. No panic. No rush. They exited the apartment with the same calm they’d entered. Mission done. Bags empty.
Rachel didn’t move until they turned the corner and disappeared down the block.
Even then, she waited what felt like hours. She curled tighter into herself, pressed the phone against her chest. Logan's number still glowed on the screen. Unanswered.
She hadn’t said enough, yet she felt like she’d said too much. And even now, barefoot in the dark, the proof still strapped to her body, there was no going back.
25
Military Transport En Route - 0140 Hours
The flight had been long and silent. Too much time to think. Too much time to remember.
Ghost sat rigid in his seat, arms folded tight across his chest, eyes locked on a spot in the bulkhead that wasn’t really there. He didn’t blink much. Didn’t shift. He just sat in that unmoving way he had when something inside him was chewing through metal.
The hum of the aircraft usually brought a quiet readiness, a low-level tension that kept him sharp but calm. Not tonight. Tonight it felt like pressure. Like static crawling under his skin.
He should’ve stayed distracted. Reviewed intel. Run inventory. Anything but this. Anything but the weight of her name pressing into every thought. Rachel.
