Chapter 35 #2
Ford’s expression didn’t shift. “You’ve run asset protection and undercover support.
You understand Krueger’s psychology, you understand Bravo, and you understand what’s at stake if this thing gets out of that valley and into the wrong city.
You’re not reckless. You’re not timid. And if I start making bad calls, I trust you to dislocate my shoulder and drag me out.
You’d also take the bullet to get me out. ”
Dante huffed once. “You really know how to sell a job.”
Ian added, “Shannon’s cleared now. You both knew this was coming.”
Dante looked back at the small, pulsing indicator where the convoy had last been confirmed. “What’s my cover?”
“Private security contractor with a mid-tier private military contractor out of the Gulf,” Ford said. “You’re there to vet the product and keep me breathing. You don’t shoot first. You don’t posture. You observe. You count guns; you read faces; you memorize ground and egress options.”
“And if this is a trap?” Dante asked.
Ian answered, “You get Ford out and give Bravo something to hunt.”
Silence settled between them for a moment.
Ford picked up a folder from the table and handed it over. “Full legend. Financials. Contacts. Backstopped accounts. You’ll have the night to burn it into your brain on the flights. Bravo’s awaiting you at Ramstein.”
“You still want me,” Dante said, “knowing what I’m walking away from?”
Ian’s gaze didn’t waver. “You’re not walking away. You’re doing the job we trained you for while she does the job she is trained to do. She’s in the air again. You’re in the dirt. Both things can be true.”
Ford’s mouth twitched, something close to a smile. “You can’t keep wolves in one pen forever.”
Dante looked between them once more. “All right, I’m in.”
Ian relaxed, fractionally. “You’re wheels up in less than an hour. Jet to DC, turnover with Zach and Tate, then on to Ramstein.”
Dante picked up the folder, flipped it open, and scanned the first page that included his new name, his new history, and his new sins.
One more question lingered. He glanced up. “You think this really leads back to Krueger?”
Ford’s eyes went cold. “If it doesn’t, it leads to something worse.”
Ian’s voice was flat. “Either way, we can’t afford to sit this out.”
Dante closed the folder. “Then let’s go.” He picked up his bag again. There was no hesitation in his step.
CHASE SECURITY PRIVATE GARAGE LEVEL – 1941 HOURS
The elevator doors slid open to the private garage, the elevator’s cool air washing over Dante as he stepped out with his go-bag over his shoulder. Concrete, steel, and the faint echo of engines from the upper decks—neutral territory.
A black Chase sedan waited near the ramp, driver’s door open, engine low and steady.
Someone else was waiting too.
Mike Johnson stood beside a concrete pillar, hands in his pockets, tie loosened, jacket folded over his arm. No security entourage. No tablet. Just him.
Dante stopped a few feet away. “I thought you were still upstairs.”
“Finished what I needed,” Mike replied. “Figured I’d catch you before you ghosted.”
Dante snorted lightly. “Wasn’t going to ghost.”
Mike’s eyebrows edged up. “You were going to slip out without making me say this part out loud—which I get. But I’m not giving you that out.”
They stood there, the silence stretching between them.
“You read in?” Dante asked. “On the op?”
“Enough,” Mike said. “Ford going in as the buyer. You on his shoulder. Bravo watching your backs from the hills.”
Dante nodded once. “That’s the shape of it.”
Mike studied him for a moment. “Shannon knows?”
“Yeah,” Dante said. “We talked this morning. And again before I came down.”
“How’d she seem?”
“Angry. Scared. Steady.” He took a breath. “Clear.”
Mike’s mouth twitched, a ghost of a smile. “That tracks.”
They fell quiet again.
Finally, Mike pushed off the pillar and stepped closer. “You know, last time I saw you getting into a black sedan, you were a young kid trying not to cry on your way to your old man’s funeral.”
Dante’s throat worked. “I remember.”
“You looked like hell,” Mike went on. “Skinny. Pissed off. Too quiet. Like if anyone touched you, you’d break or swing, and none of us wanted to find out which.”
“Probably both,” Dante said dryly.
“Probably,” Mike agreed.
He breathed out through his nose, eyes dropping to the concrete for a moment before coming back up. “I didn’t know what you’d be back then. I just knew you were watching everything. Filing it away. Deciding who you were going to be in the middle of all that grief.”
Dante gave a small nod.
“I like who you picked.”
Dante blinked once. “Thank you.”
Mike stepped a little closer. “You’ve got two jobs over there. You already know them, but I’m going to say them anyway.”
“Hit me.”
“Job one: keep Ford alive. He’ll pretend he doesn’t need it. He’s lying. Don’t tell him I said that.”
A corner of Dante’s mouth lifted. “Won’t say a word.”
“Job two,” Mike continued, “come home. Not in a body bag. Breathing. Enough of you left that she still recognizes the man she gave her heart to.”
Dante looked down, jaw tightening. “I’m going to do everything I can. For both.”
“I know you will,” Mike replied. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t let you within fifty miles of this op or my daughter.”
Dante unconsciously rubbed his chest.
“Just so we’re clear,” Mike added, “I don’t like this. Any of it. But I trust you. Ford does too. And Shannon…” He exhaled. “She loves you. That means something, coming from her.”
Dante swallowed. “It means everything, coming from her.”
Mike nodded once like that was the answer he needed. He stuck out his hand.
Dante took it. Mike’s grip was firm, warm, and familiar. Then, instead of letting go, he pulled Dante in that extra half step and clapped his other hand on the back of his neck. It wasn’t exactly a hug, but something damn close.
“You bring my friend back,” Mike said, voice low. “You bring yourself back. And if you have to choose in the moment which one you can save… you make the call you can live with.”
Dante held his gaze. “You sure you want to give me that latitude?”
“No,” Mike said. “But I’m doing it anyway. Because that’s what this is.”
They let go.
Dante stepped back, the weight of the bag suddenly very real on his shoulder. “I’ll call her when I hit DC.”
“You do that,” Mike replied. “And, Dante?”
“Yeah?”
“If Krueger’s shadow shows up anywhere near that meet… you don’t owe him a damn thing but a clean shot.”
Dante’s eyes went cold around the edges. “Agreed.” He turned toward the car, then paused and glanced back. “Take care of her while I’m gone. She’ll pretend she doesn’t need it.”
Mike huffed. “She gets that from me.”
“Yeah,” Dante said. “I noticed.”
He climbed into the sedan.