"Now I'm grateful for every ounce of training they put into me." He meets my eyes across the distance between us. "Because it kept you alive today."
I don't know what to say to that. Don't know how to process the collision of violence and tenderness, the way this man can kill three people in the space of minutes and then touch my face like I'm made of glass.
"Where are we going?"
"A rendezvous point. Safe location where Priest and Mace can meet us."
"Tell me about Priest. The man who started all this."
Ford is quiet for a long moment. "He was CIA. Special Activities Division. The kind of operative who doesn't officially exist. I told you I made a decision twelve years ago. What I didn’t say was that when I made that decision my op had gone sideways. I was left holding compromised evidence that could have buried me, Priest appeared like a ghost. Made everything disappear. I never asked how. I didn't want to know."
"And the price was my father's marker."
"Your father had something Priest needed. Information, access, I never learned the details. The marker was part of whatever deal they struck." His jaw tightens. "I spent twelve years pretending that debt didn't exist. Pretending I could live a simple life and never pay the price for what Priest did for me."
"But debts always come due."
"Yeah." He almost smiles. "They really do."
The sun is high overhead now, burning away the morning mist, turning the marsh into a glittering expanse of green and gold. Beautiful. Peaceful. Completely at odds with the blood still drying on the deck and the bodies sinking into the depths of the channel we left behind.
"Ford?"
"Yeah?"
"Whatever this is, whatever we're dealing with, I'm not going to hide below and wait for someone to rescue me." I grip the helm tighter, feeling the boat respond to my touch. "If your past and my father's enemies are connected, then I need to understand how. I need to know what I'm up against."
He's quiet for a long moment.
"That's fair," he says finally. "When Priest gets here, we'll figure it out together. All of it."
"Promise?"
"You have my word."
I turn my attention back to the water, navigating the channels the way he taught me while he rests and heals and watches me with an expression I can't quite read.
Five days ago, I was furious at being sent here. Furious at being treated like cargo, like leverage, like a piece on my father's board.
Now three men are dead because of me. Now the man protecting me is injured. Now something bigger than a mob turf war is unfolding around us, and I don't have the luxury of fury anymore.
Now I just have to survive.
And figure out what the hell is actually going on.
7
FORD
Priest looks exactly the way I remember him. Tall, lean, silver threading through dark hair that's cut military short. Pale blue eyes that see everything and reveal nothing. The kind of man who walks into a room and makes everyone else feel like they're being assessed for weaknesses.
He steps off the Salt and Steel boat onto Second Watch's deck with the easy balance of someone who's spent time on water. Behind him comes Mace Hunter, Guardian Peak's second-in-command. Six-three, broad shoulders, hazel eyes that miss nothing. Between the two of them, there's enough lethal competence to make any hostile force think twice.
Cal Hayes pilots the boat that brought them, staying aboard to maintain communication with his team back at the Boathouse.
"Ford." Priest's voice hasn't changed either. Quiet. Measured. The voice of a man who's spent decades dealing in shadows. "You look like hell."
"Got shot this morning. Tends to affect a man's appearance."
