She pulls out the ruggedized laptop, my physical hit ledger, and her encrypted hardshell drive, laying them out side-by-side on the hood.
"My safety isn't the primary objective." Addy looks up at him, her dark eyes completely flat, her voice a low, raspy hum that cuts straight through the freezing mountain air. "Dismantling the syndicate network is."
Frost approaches the hood of the truck. He looks down at the chaotic spread of data.
He sees the decrypted offshore shell company profiles. He sees my handwritten physical ledger laid out directly next to her hard drive, matching the encrypted crypto transfers. He sees the hours of grueling, work that shattered the syndicate's firewall.
His dark eyes scan the screen before locking onto the final principal target.
Ares Global Logistics.
Frost goes completely still. A physical shockwave ripples through his strike team. Flint shifts his weight, his handdropping closer to his sidearm. Ares Global is a ghost—a massive, heavily armed, and entirely untouchable private military contractor that Guardian HRS has been trying to corner and dismantle for years.
Frost slowly looks up from the laptop. He looks at Addy. Then, he looks at me.
The cold, impenetrable mask he wears for his men cracks, replaced by a raw flash of stunned, absolute approval. He realizes exactly what happened. We did it. We broke the uncrackable dark-money network using a ruggedized laptop in the middle of a freezing mountain cabin.
"You found the principal." The words are heavy with absolute disbelief.
"Wefound the principal." Addy's gaze is completely unwavering, anchoring the victory directly to both of us. "And I have the override codes to freeze every single one of their offshore assets. But we need to hit their primary server hub to execute it."
Frost stares at her for a long, calculating second. He snaps the laptop closed.
He looks back at the heavy timber door of the cabin, then back to the data resting on his truck. "How did you find this?"
"Your brother and I were working the same operation from different directions." Addy doesn't hesitate. "I noticed the overlap last night. We pooled our intel, worked through the night, and cracked the firewall."
"What operation?" Frost slowly turns to me. The heavy, impenetrable wall that has separated us for four years visibly shifts.
I don't answer. I just stare at him. The pride of a Harrison doesn't break easily. I'm fully prepared to let him believe exactly what he's believed for four years. I won't beg for my honor back.
"He's been tracking the man who hired him to execute a federal witness." Addy answers for me, stepping forward and fiercely defending the ground I refuse to take. "He spent four years trying to dismantle the network that forced him to kill an innocent man."
The words hit the frigid morning air like a violent detonation.
Frost goes completely still.
He stares at me. The silence of the mountain presses in on us. Four years of bitter exile. Four years of bad blood and silence. The shattering realization that his younger brother isn't the morally bankrupt monster he believed him to be hits him squarely in the chest. It all hangs in the freezing air between us, heavy and unresolved.
"Get your gear." Frost's voice is rough, completely stripped of its cold, professional detachment. "We could use the extra hand."
A violent, electric rush of adrenaline hits my blood. It is an olive branch. An invitation back into the fold.
But I don't go for him. I go because Addy is leaving with them, and there's no way in hell I'm staying behind.
I turn and grab my drag bag from the wooden porch. I walk past Frost's team without a word, the heavy weight of the .338 Lapua settling comfortably against my spine. I move directly to the rear passenger door of the lead armored truck, pulling it open and stepping back.
Addy walks past the heavily armed Guardian operators. Her head is held high, her spine straight as she climbs into the dark leather interior.
I don't look at Frost. I don't look at Flint, Hawk, Kade, or Riot. Opening the door for her is a physical, undeniable line drawn in the dirt for the entire strike team to see.
She belongs with me. She is under my protection.
I slide into the tight cab beside her, pulling the heavy armored door shut behind us with a solid, metallic thud that seals us inside the fortress.
The rest of the team piles into the two vehicles.
The heavy diesel engine of the lead truck revs, vibrating violently through the reinforced chassis.
