Page 127 of Aviatrix

“Today,” Gary begins, sharp and commanding, “we execute orders that fall outside the bounds of routine. This isn’t a drill. This isn’t training. This is the moment we’ve spent our careers preparing for.”

I swallow hard as Lark’s shoulder brushes mine. I glance up at him, but his eyes are locked ahead, on his daughter. She’s going with us. Her life is on the line, just like ours. That thought rattles me more than thoughts of my own mortality does.

“We are aviators,” Gary continues. “We are guardians of the sky. Our oath is to protect this nation, its people, and each other no matter the cost.”

There’s a pause. Everyone seems to be holding their breath, all of us clinging to the same thing: survival.

“When we hit ground, we won’t know what we’re stepping into. But we step in unified. Eyes up, backs straight, heads held high. We do not fracture. We do not falter,” Gary says quieter, more deliberate and unshakable. “We do not leave our own behind.”

My gaze drifts to Scooter, then to Amber.

Whatever happens in the next few hours will either forge us into something unbreakable… or tear us apart.

God, I hope we don’t break.

Gary raises a hand and salutes us. I raise my own in salute, palm pressed to my brow.

Without a word, we break formation and move toward our aircraft.

Gary, Scooter, and I will fly separately, each piloting our own jets under VAL’s stealth protocol, undetectable by radar.

Lark will fly the Alien Warfare team and Amber in a small commercial plane. He wouldn’t trust anyone else at the controls.

Behind me, boots strike pavement. Heels, fast and urgent.

“Kinley!”

Sasha.

I turn as she jogs up, out of breath. Her eyes scan mine.

“In case one of us doesn’t make it,” she says, low, “Eli wanted me to give you this.”

She holds out a thumb drive. The thumb drive. The one I gave back to him. The one that had Project Aviatrix on it.

“He said it’s been wiped,” she adds, watching as I take it, my fingers curling tight around the metal and plastic like it might disappear.

“Thank you,” I tell her softly.

“Be safe, okay?”

“You too.”

I climb into VAL feeling nothing. Because I don’t have the luxury of feeling right now. I need to focus.

But I take a moment to stare at the drive in my palm, a lump forming in my throat.

I gave this back to Eli when I was still trying to convince myself I would be okay. That we would be okay. That duty came first.

Now, he’s gone.

And somehow, this survived.

I tuck it into the pocket near my heart, like keeping it there might anchor me to the reason I’m still standing.

“VAL?”

The cockpit console glows dark blue today. “Yes, Captain Kinley Quay?”