Chapter 72 Carter
Carter
The map spread out between us was more than lines and coordinates—it was the battlefield that stood between Harper and the life she deserved.
I’d studied a thousand maps in my career, each one just another mission, another objective. But this one felt different. Because every red circle, every route, every risk—it all traced back to her.
River pointed to a cluster of marks near the docks. “With Graves down, the network will shift fast. Someone steps in to fill the gap. If we move now, we can catch them mid-transition, before the money moves.”
“Intel?” I asked.
“Partial,” Gideon admitted, fingers flying over his laptop. “But it’s enough to confirm chatter about a new hub. South end. Old warehouses, same shell companies Graves used.”
I leaned in, studying the layout. Multiple entry points. High vantage on the north side. Too many blind corners.
“Too open,” I muttered. “We’ll need to split.”
Cyclone grunted. “Risky. But doable.”
As the conversation rolled, I felt Harper’s hand brush against mine where it rested on the table. Not clinging. Not trembling. Just there. Steady.
I didn’t look at her, but the touch anchored me. It reminded me that this wasn’t just another op. This was personal.
River’s eyes flicked to me. “You’re thinking about more than the mission.”
“Damn right I am,” I said flatly. “We hit them fast, we hit them clean, and then we burn the rest of the trail. I don’t care who’s in line to replace Graves—they don’t get the chance.”
Silence hung heavy for a moment, then River nodded once. “Understood.”
I straightened, my gaze finally finding Harper’s. She didn’t flinch from the fire in my eyes. If anything, hers matched it.
“This isn’t just about keeping you safe anymore,” I said quietly, just for her. “It’s about ending it. So when this is over, we don’t just survive—we live.”
And as her fingers laced with mine under the table, I knew the fight ahead would be hell.
But for the first time, it felt like we were walking into it together.