When he did, his voice was quieter. “Because she’s useful. Because she’s close to information they don’t want to risk pulling themselves. Because she’s clean.”
“And because she’s alone,” I said.
Ghost’s eyes flicked to me. Sharp. Acknowledging the hit.
Cap closed the folder. “We move her.”
“No,” Ghost said immediately.
The room stilled.
Cap’s gaze hardened. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”
Ghost didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t posture. He just stood there, spine straight, eyes burning.
“If we pull her now, they escalate,” Ghost said. “Fast. Sloppy. They don’t lose assets quietly. They retaliate.”
Amanda shook her head. “So we just let them?—”
“We don’t let them do anything,” Ghost said. “We watch. We learn. We control the field.”
I stepped in before Cap could respond. “You’re asking us to trust you.”
Ghost looked at me fully then. Something raw flickered in his expression before it vanished.
“I’m asking you to trust the timing,” he said. “Not me.”
That was… honest. For him.
Cap studied him for a long moment. Then he exhaled slowly. “You’ve got eyes on her?”
“Yes.”
“Without her knowing?”
“Yes.”
Amanda flinched, then steadied herself. “She deserves to know.”
“She deserves to live,” Ghost replied.
No one argued with that.
Cap nodded once. “We don’t make a move without consensus. But we don’t ignore this either.”
He looked around the table. “This ring isn’t done. And neither are we.”
Church broke slowly.
Men filtered out in quiet groups. Ranger clapped Scout on the shoulder. Brutus muttered something about checking perimeter schedules. Doc cornered Amanda about soreness and hydration like nothing world-ending had just been discussed.
I lingered.
Ghost was still standing where he’d been, staring at the closed folder like it might blink back at him.
I walked up beside him. “You okay?”
He didn’t look at me. “No.”
