Rachel didn’t rattle over nothing. If she said it, she meant it. Which meant whatever she’d uncovered went deep. Inside the wire. Maybe higher.
His pulse shifted into something slower, sharper.
Where was she now? How far had she gotten? Did she have anything with her, cash, ID, the evidence? The camera bag, probably. That thing never left her side. It’d be on her now. Which meant if they caught her, they’d get everything.
Five hours had passed since that message. Ghost checked his watch for the third time in as many minutes. Anything could have happened by now.
Discipline held him tight, coiled like a spring beneath his skin. Every lesson ever drilled into him surfaced, clear and methodical and sharp: log out, report in, secure your chain.
He slammed his truck door and cut through the base, each stride sharp and certain. Rachel was in danger and there wasn’t a damn thing in this world that would stop him from getting to her.
He reached his CO’s office, didn’t bother with more than a knock before stepping inside. Commander Anders looked up, expression unreadable. Ghost didn’t wait.
“Sir, I need to go. Now.”
Anders didn’t blink. “Talk.”
“Rachel Parker—she’s not safe. She uncovered corruption. Stateside. Officers selling weapons to insurgents. She called me last night from her apartment. Someone broke in. She’s gone.”
Anders brows pulled together, concern flickering beneath the calm. “Ghost, are you certain this isn’t just paranoia?”
Ghost’s voice cut low. Dangerous. “She left me a voicemail at two in the morning, terrified for her life. That’s not paranoia.”
He stepped closer. “You know she’s telling the truth, or else they wouldn’t be trying to bury her.”
Anders studied him, silence stretching. Then, one sharp nod. “What do you need?”
“Extended leave. Immediate.” Ghost’s voice was iron. “I need to find her and get her somewhere safe.”
Anders didn’t ask another question. “Approved. Take what you need.”
Ghost turned for the door, every muscle already in motion, but Anders’s voice stopped him. “I’ll have Echo send you her last known address. Keep me updated.”
Ghost nodded once. “Yes, sir.”
Then he was gone. Already moving. Already hunting. Ghost barely felt the wind cutting across the tarmac as he stepped off the base. His mind was already moving faster than his feet. Mapping exits. Priorities. Tracking what little intel they had.
Rachel was out there. Alone. Hunted. He’d failed once. He wouldn’t do it again.
By the time he reached his truck, Echo had already pinged her last known location, cell tower triangulation placing her somewhere between the northern edge of downtown and the marina district. Echo followed it up with her apartment address.
The moment he slid behind the wheel, he was no longer just Logan Hayes. He was Ghost. Mission in hand.
Target: Extract.
Status: Critical.
The cost didn’t matter. The depth didn’t scare him. Someone had marked her, and they were going to bleed for it.
27
The eastern sky was just beginning to pale, casting a low wash of gray over the coastline as Ghost approached the base gates. The world around him stirred quiet and slow, trash trucks, early runners, distant surf, but none of it registered.
His focus was razor-sharp. He hadn’t stopped moving since Echo forwarded the triangulated address. Fifteen-minute ETA. That was fifteen minutes too long.
He’d played her voicemail back three times on the drive over. Just to be sure he hadn’t missed anything. Just to hear her voice again.
“If you get this… just know that I—I wanted to hear your voice one more time.”
