Brick grunted. "Hell of a hiding spot."
Reaper leaned back against the counter, grinning. "Better than half the lockboxes I've broken into." His eyes dropped, not even trying to be subtle about it.
Ghost moved. One step put him directly in front of Rachel, his body blocking Reaper's line of sight.
Reaper raised both hands, still grinning. "Noted, boss. Message received."
Bear laughed. "Damn. She's got you trained."
Ghost's expression didn't change. "No. I'm just not in the mood to kill one of you tonight."
Rachel held out the drive, unbothered by the whole exchange. "Figured it might come in handy."
Ghost took it carefully, his fingers brushing hers. He looked down at her and his face changed. His expression gentled, but only for her.
He turned and tossed the drive to Echo. "Find out what's on it."
Echo caught it cleanly. "On it."
Laptops opened. Cables connected. The quiet tap of keys filled the space as Echo worked, his fingers flying across the keyboard. Rachel watched them move. These men had come when Ghost called. They were here because they believed her.
The screen lit up with grainy footage. Time-stamped, dust-fogged, washed out by poor lighting and camera equipment that had seen better days. Static crackled through the speakers.
Then voices. American.
Rachel's stomach dropped. She'd watched this footage a dozen times, but seeing it here, with these men, made her hands go cold.
Men in uniform circled crates marked for foreign aid, no insignias visible, no oversight. A sat phone changed hands, then a ledger, then a thick duffel bag hit the ground, unzipped enough to show stacks of cash inside.
A voice cut through the static. American, clipped and cold. "This is the last shipment. The higher-ups are getting nervous."
A pause.
The reply came back thicker, accented. "We need more. You promised more."
Another beat.
The American again, flat and final. "You'll get what we give you. But if we go down, you go down too. We clear?"
Two hands extended into frame. U.S. officers shaking hands with the enemy.
The screen went black.
Rachel could hear her own breathing, too loud now. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Sweat prickled cold along her spine despite the warmth in the room.
The easy banter was gone. What she saw now in their faces made her throat go dry.
Reaper spoke first. "Well, fuck."
Brick stared at the floor, both fists clenched so tight his knuckles had gone white. "That's what we've been fighting for? What our brothers died for?"
Ghost hadn't moved. His eyes were still on the blank screen.
Torch exhaled slowly, the beer in his hand forgotten. "This isn't just bad. This could bring down careers. Commands. Maybe more."
Echo leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "This isn't corruption. It's treason."
"It's worse than treason," Rachel said.
