Zach added, “And Dante gets full access to this file. Today. Krueger’s not just a threat to Shannon anymore. He’s a threat to the chain of stability across five nations.”
Mike nodded slowly. “Give Dante what he needs.”
Kip leaned forward. “I’ll authorize a quiet expansion of the containment teams here. No one gets near Shannon without clearance from me, Ford, or Dante.”
No one argued. Because everyone knew…Krueger’s war wasn’t over.
THIRTY-TWO
CHASE MEDICAL RECOVERY WING – 1412 HOURS
It was thirty-two days after her crash. The therapy room was warm, intentionally underlit. There were no windows, just a tall plant in the corner and soft, muted upholstery in blues and creams. A carafe of water sat on a tray nearby. A thin blanket had been folded neatly on the arm of the chair, as if to say,you might need this.
Shannon sat with her left leg elevated slightly, the surgical hip still stiff, though the swelling had finally begun to subside. Across from her sat Dr. Tara Teslow, the trauma therapist Hunt recommended. She was a civilian, forty-something with no visible rank or badges. She was a woman who listened for a living.
“I don’t feel like talking,” Shannon said.
Dr. Teslow didn’t react. “Then don’t.”
Shannon added, “I’m not going to cry, either.”
“No problem.”
Another silence. Longer. Shannon adjusted her posture, wincing as the movement tugged too fast.
Dr. Teslow watched, not unkindly.
Shannon finally said, “You know I was flying with her. Mara Esten. She was my crew.”
“I know.”
“She didn’t get a funeral. Just… a closed room, evidence bags, and her name on a file. I haven’t even seen her family.”
“You want to?”
Shannon looked away. “What am I supposed to say?”
“That’s not the question,” Teslow said gently. “The question is what do you need to say?”
Shannon’s throat worked. “I told her to trust me. That I had her six. And then she died.”
“She was drugged, Shannon. You couldn’t have?—”
“I should have known,” she snapped, louder than she meant. “I flew with her. I felt her next to me. I should’ve noticed.”
Shannon’s shoulders curled slightly, like she was trying to fold inward. But the brace wouldn’t let her. Her leg throbbed, and her back ached. Her throat felt too full. “I miss my mom,” she said finally, voice rough. “I didn’t used to say that. Not out loud.”
“She flew helicopters too?”
“Black Hawks,” Shannon said. “She made it look easy.” She took a long breath. “I didn’t cry at her funeral. Everyone said how strong I was.”
“Were you?”
“I thought I was,” Shannon stared hard at her knees, “but now I think I just forgot how to feel.”
There was another long silence.
Dr. Teslow said, “Would it be all right if we paused here? I want to give you something.”
