Chapter 23 - Beckett
Beckett
The briefing room smelled like sweat and Hogie sandwiches, the kind of mix that clung to you after a fight no shower could scrub out. We’d dumped the intel Cyclone ripped from Hydra’s crates across the table—drives, manifests, coded ledgers scrawled in neat foreign hands.
River leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, eyes sharp. He wasn’t just another operator in moments like this; he was someone we listened to when he spoke. He was always calm. Calculated. Unforgiving. Except when his wife, Kat, and his kids needed him. Then he dropped everything.
“Convoy’s down,” River said, voice steady.
“But it wasn’t Hydra’s A-team. Roger Grand sacrificed pawns to buy himself time, which means he’s already moving the real pieces.
” His gaze swept the room, pausing just long enough for each of us to feel it.
“We need to know what’s next before we bleed out chasing scraps. ”
Oliver grunted. “She fought like she knew what she was doing.” He didn’t bother softening the suspicion in his tone.
“Too well,” Gage added, crossing his arms. “Makes you wonder what else she’s hiding. But she fought with us. She was on our side.”
Elara sat straight in her chair, hands folded neatly on the table, mask flawless. To anyone else, she looked untouchable. But I’d seen the flicker in her eyes when the blood hit her hands. She was holding the mask in place with sheer force of will.
“She held her ground,” I said before I thought better of it. The words came out sharp, defensive. “She didn’t run. She didn’t fold. And she got us information we wouldn’t have had otherwise.”
Gage’s brows shot up. “Since when do you vouch for assets?”
“Since I watched her put down three Hydra men before they could put a bullet in any of us,” I snapped back.
The room went quiet. River’s eyes cut to mine, weighing, measuring. Then to Elara.
“She’s useful,” River said finally, his tone giving away nothing. “But useful doesn’t mean trustworthy. Hydra trained her to be what they needed. Don’t forget that. Just because she fought with us, doesn’t mean she isn’t undercover.”
Elara’s chin lifted a fraction. She didn’t flinch, didn’t argue. Just sat there, letting the weight of the judgment press against her like it couldn’t touch her.
I knew better. I’d seen the cracks.
River straightened. “Cole, she’s yours to protect. They’ll be coming after her. Stay at the safehouse. Watch your back.”
My jaw tightened. “I will.”
Elara’s eyes flicked to mine, calm on the outside, storming underneath. I didn’t look away.
Because no matter what River said, no matter what I repeated—I already knew I’d bleed out before I let Hydra touch her again.
And that was the part I could never say out loud.