Chapter 14 Elara
Elara
The room felt colder than usual, all the chairs were full, and the guys were laughing at something.
Cyclone was already there, laptop open, data streams spilling across the wall in a language only he seemed fluent in.
Oliver and Gage leaned against the far side of the table, chuckling, watchful.
I always thought of them as killers; that’s what I was told every day for eleven years.
And then there was Beckett.
He stood off to the side, arms folded, jaw locked, like he hadn’t slept. Like he hadn’t moved from my door all night. He didn’t look at me when I walked in. That should have made it easier. It didn’t.
River wasted no time. He was wearing a swimming trunks with a t-shirt that read “Best Dad in the World.” His eyes were sharp as he tapped the screen.
“Hydra’s scrambling. Warehouse was a take-down.
They’ll push back. We’ve got chatter about a convoy moving west—cash, product, personnel.
We need confirmation, and we need leverage. ”
Everyone’s eyes flicked my way.
The “asset.” The traitor who was supposed to hand them Hydra’s secrets on a silver platter. Are they forgetting I hired them to guard me?
I straightened my shoulders, ignoring the burn under my bandage. “Convoy means Grand is nervous,” I said evenly. “He doesn’t move resources unless he’s cleaning house. You follow that trail, it’ll take you to his stronghold.”
“Or into a trap,” Oliver muttered.
Beckett’s gaze finally cut to me. Hard. Sharp. But not dismissive. He wanted to see how I’d answer.
I met his eyes and didn’t blink. “Then you take me with you. I know how he moves his pieces. I’ll know if it’s bait.”
The room went still.
“Absolutely not,” Gage said. “She’s not field-ready. She’s not cleared.”
“She’s not trustworthy,” Oliver added, bluntly.
I let their words wash over me. This part was familiar—men deciding who I was, what I could or couldn’t do. My pulse stayed steady, my mask intact. “You want leverage? You want Grand exposed? Then you need someone who knows the roads that he doesn’t write on a map. That’s me.”
Silence again.
It was Beckett who broke it. His voice was low, certain. “If she goes, I’ll stay with her. Every second.”
River nodded, already marking assignments on the screen. “Then it’s settled. Wheels up at 0600.”
The others filed out, muttering, shoulders tense. But Beckett stayed, watching me with that same unreadable expression.
“You really want to walk back into Hydra’s fire?” he asked quietly.
I lifted my chin, even though my chest tightened. “Want has nothing to do with it. Survival does. As long as there is a Hydra, I will never be free to walk anywhere. I want them destroyed, more than anyone.”
His jaw worked, the muscle ticking once. And for a second, I thought he might say more. Might warn me. Might even believe me.
But he just turned away, leaving me in the cold glow of the screens, wondering if this was the beginning of proving myself—or the end.