Page 175 of Operation: Defiance

“Ellen, you have to leave town. Now. Please! Hang up and⁠—”

“No,” she says, her voice firm.

I hold my breath, pulse loud in my ears.

“Running won’t save me. And if I’m going back, I’m damn well going to do something that actually warrants it. So you’re going to listen to me, then do whatever you can to keep yourself safe. They came back yesterday. Different agents this time,” she says. “They told me I could stay out of Coherent Path if I convinced you to meet me somewhere private, then called them with the location. Clearly, I am not going to do that. But they also showed me a man’s photo. It wasn’t very clear, but it was from…inside. They wanted to know who he was and why he was helping you.”

A tremor runs through my fingers, and I almost lose my grip on the phone. They wouldn’t show her Asher’s face unless they were certain we were together.

“He’s…no one,” I manage. Maybe if it’s on the record, they’ll stop leaning so hard on his aliases. “I stole his access card. That’s how I…got out.”

The room tilts briefly as I get to my feet and move to the window. I need to see the sky. To know I’m not back there.

“We probably don’t have long,” Ellen says. “What you—we—went through…it started years ago under a different name. They called it the Operational Standards Intensive.”

“How long ago?” I ask.

“I don’t know. But they changed the name shortly before I went through it. A couple of my compliance checks still used that wording. I don’t think they’d updated all their files yet. And there’s one other thing you should know. At the end of my interrogation the other day, they made me sign a form acknowledging that further deviation would send me back into the program. There was a code stamped at the top of the form I’ve never seen before: RJ-3.”

I almost drop the phone. “That was all over the files we talked about. The agents who disappeared from the duty rosters… You don’t know what it means?”

“No. I don’t think I was meant to see it.”

I file that away for later, when I can slot it into the pattern I’m building in my head.

“This can’t be allowed to continue,” I say quietly.

“I know.” There’s no surprise in her tone. Only a hint of recognition. “Be careful, Raine.”

“You too. If you can…run. Please.”

Ellen pauses just long enough I think she might actually be considering it, then hangs up.

I pull the SIM, and snap it cleanly in half.

I return to the couch, the phone still warm in my hand. The room tilts just enough to be noticeable. My stomach roils, and the edges of things get loud all at once. The refrigerator cycles, the electricity hums in the walls, and the distant sound of a car horn blares from the street. I keep my feet planted on the floor and my eyes fixed on the far wall until the dizziness crests and hangs there.

It takes several breaths before I can get a handle on my body. After another few minutes, I find the words for what I’m feeling. It isn’t panic. More like…an aftershock.

Naming it helps. The room steadies, and the weight pressing down on me lifts enough I understand how to carry it.

The cost of staying in this fight is clear, but it isn’t only mine. Ellen will pay. Tessa too. And then there’s Asher. He’s a target because he didn’t walk away. Because he saw me when I couldn’t even see myself.

I brace a hand on the cushion, my equilibrium not quite solid enough to trust I won’t topple over if I’m not careful.

Tea. I need tea.

Halfway to the kitchen, I stop. Making tea, grounding myself in the ritual, the scent, and the warmth? It’ll settle my thoughts. Help clarify patterns before I try to dive back into the data.

But there’s something I want first.

Asher stands at the bedroom window, rolling his left shoulder slowly from front to back.

“How bad?” I ask.

He turns, his gaze locked on mine. I don’t look away. I don’t want to. I want to memorize everything about him. The small scar over his right eyebrow. The reddish tinge to his stubble. The hazel flecks in his blue eyes.

“It’s fine,” he says. “I’m just trying to keep it that way.”