"Then we don't walk into the trap." I'm already calculating—distance to extraction point, flight time to Sacramento, how long we have before the cartel figures out where Sera lives. "We get there first. Evacuate them before the cartel arrives."
"And if you're wrong? If they're already there?"
Evie's hand finds mine. Squeezes.
"Then we handle it." I meet her eyes. "Together."
Mitzy sighs—the long-suffering sigh of a tech operator who knows she's not going to win this argument."Fine. I'll redirect the bird to Sacramento. But I'm alerting CJ, and I'm pulling every string I have to get backup to you faster."
"Do it."
"And Riot?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't die. I still haven't gotten my coffee."
Despite everything, I almost smile. "Oat milk. I remember."
The connection clicks off. Evie and I stand on the cliff top, the canyon yawning behind us, the mountains stretching ahead.
"You don't have to do this." Her voice is quiet. "Sera and Rosie—they're my people. My responsibility. You could take me to your headquarters, keep me safe, let your team handle?—"
"No."
"Riot—"
"Jon." I catch her face in my hands, make her look at me. "My name is Jon. And I'm not leaving your people to die while you hide somewhere safe. That's not who I am."
"But the risk?—"
"Is mine to take." I press my forehead to hers. "You asked me to trust you on that cliff. Now I'm asking you to trust me. We do this together. All the way."
She's quiet for a long moment. Then her hands come up to cover mine.
"Together," she whispers.
"Together."
We break apart. The moment of softness passes, replaced by the cold clarity of tactical necessity.
"The extraction point is about an hour east," I tell her. "Rough terrain, but nothing like what we just climbed. Can you make it?"
"I can make it." Her chin lifts—that stubborn set I'm starting to recognize. "How long once we're in the air?"
"Forty minutes, maybe less. Mitzy will have eyes on Sera's house by then. We'll know what we're walking into."
"And if we're too late?"
The question hangs between us. I don't have a good answer—there are no good answers in situations like this. Only bad options and worse ones.
"Then we make them pay for it." My voice comes out harder than I intended. "But we're not going to be too late. Not if we move now."
Evie nods. The fear is still there—I can see it in the tension of her shoulders, the tightness around her eyes—but she's not letting it control her. She's channeling it, the same way she channeled it on the climb.
This woman. This impossible, magnificent woman.
"One more thing." I catch her hand before she can start walking. "When we get there, you do what I say. No arguments, no heroics, no throwing rocks at men with guns unless I specifically tell you to."
