Chapter Ten
Morning sunlight spilled across the compound, painting everything gold, wrapped as it was in quiet.
For the first time in months, there was no tension humming in Kael’s muscles, no missions waiting, no targets to stalk.
Just the sound of waves striking rock and the soft murmur of his team in the distance.
From his spot on the cliff’s edge, he could see the shimmer of the ocean stretching out forever, the wind carrying the scent of salt and hibiscus.
It should have felt peaceful. Instead, it felt wrong.
He’d been awake since dawn, unable to shake the prickling unease that had lodged beneath his skin.
Every instinct whispered that something was shifting.
Maybe it was the way the surf broke too rhythmically, or how the air felt too still.
Maybe it was the way Drew’s laughter from the compound below—soft, unguarded—felt like something borrowed from another life, something too fragile to last.
Kael rubbed the back of his neck and started the perimeter walk, boots crunching along the path that wound through the scrub and palm.
Keanu and Tane were already up, fixing the outer generator.
Niko sat cross-legged near the trucks, eyes half-closed, pretending to meditate but really just napping.
When he climbed the stairs from the garage to the command center he found Luka, hunched over his screens.
“Morning, boss,” Luka called without looking up. “Coffee’s on the burner.”
Kael grabbed a mug and leaned over his shoulder. “Anything moving?”
“Nothing that shouldn’t be there. Weather’s clear, no signals bouncing from the east ridge. We’re boringly safe.” Luka paused, then frowned. “You ever think about how that’s the scariest sentence a man like me can say?”
Kael smiled faintly. “Yeah. Feels like the universe setting us up for a punchline.”
He made his rounds, listening, watching, cataloguing every small detail—the rustle of leaves, the faint smell of oil, the soft scrape of metal. Everything in its place. Everything normal. But his gut wouldn’t settle.
By midmorning, the compound had come alive.
Niko and Luca were arguing over who could gut a truck engine faster.
Keanu had music playing—something lazy and island-slow while he tinkered under the hood of a van fit out they were working on.
Auntie’s voice carried from the kitchen, bossing everyone around with affectionate irritation.
Drew’s laugh joined in, low and rough, the kind of sound that still caught Kael off guard.
He wandered down to see what had his lover laughing.
He found Drew leaning against the workshop door, sleeves rolled, grease smudged across his jaw.
“Morning,” Drew said, the word softened by the sunlight. “You look like a man trying to make peace with paradise.”
Kael stepped close enough to smell the faint citrus soap on his skin. “Paradise makes me twitchy.”
Drew smiled. “You and peace have never exactly been on speaking terms, either.”
“Too quiet,” Kael muttered, eyes scanning the distant horizon. “It feels like the island’s holding its breath.”
“Even the island is allowed to exhale once in a while, you know,” Drew said. “Nobody’s shooting at us.”
“Yet,” Kael grunted.
Drew tilted his head. “That’s my man’s optimism that I know and love.”
Kael almost smiled. Almost. “I prefer to call it experience.”
They stood side by side, watching the waves break in the distance. Kael could feel the weight of everything they’d survived pressing into the silence. “You ever think about what we are?” he asked suddenly.
“Alive?” Drew said with a small grin.
Kael smiled at that, but shook his head. “Assassins, mercenaries, whatever label you want. We’ve both killed more people than I care to count. And now we’re building fences and arguing over who makes the best coffee. Doesn’t feel real.”
Drew looked at him, thoughtful. “Maybe that’s the point. Maybe this—this in-between—is where we start figuring out who we are without the blood.”
Kael’s throat tightened. “You think we get that chance?”
“No, I don’t think that chance is just handed to us,” Drew said simply. “I think we have to make it for ourselves.”
A long silence stretched between them, filled with the sound of the distant surf and the faint buzz of music from Keanu’s speakers.
Kael’s gaze caught movement out near the edge of the cliffs—a glint of light, quick and sharp, like the sun flashing on glass.
Gone as soon as it appeared. Had he imagined it?
“Luka,” Kael called over comms. “You picking up any reflections or metallic interference from the ridge?”
Silence. Then Luka’s voice. “Negative. You see something?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe’s how horror movies start, boss.”
Kael frowned, eyes narrowing at the empty horizon. “Double the sensor sweep. I want everything running until sundown, then we move to infra-red.”
“Copy that.”
He stayed there a moment longer, the breeze ruffling his hair, before turning back toward the compound. Drew fell into step beside him. “You think it was nothing?”
Kael didn’t stop walking, but turned his head to level a gaze at Drew. “I don’t believe in anything being nothing. That’s how I’ve kept my team alive.”
“Of course you don’t,” Drew said, bumping his shoulder lightly against Kael’s. “Guess that’s why we work.”
Kael gave him another sideways glance. “You saying we work now?”
Drew grinned. “We’re learning to steer, remember? I reckon we’ll work for as long as we need each other.”
Kael huffed a laugh and shook his head, but he didn’t disagree.
The day rolled on in easy rhythm—Aunty corralling them for lunch, Luka teasing Niko until he tried to throw him from the balcony, the hum of normalcy stretching thin over an undercurrent of tension. Kael couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere, something watched them.
Late afternoon found him back on the cliff, watching the sun dip low. The ocean burned gold, and for a moment, everything looked too perfect, too still. He heard footsteps behind him and didn’t have to turn to know it was Drew.
“Figured I’d find you here, again” Drew said.
Kael glanced over his shoulder. “You keeping tabs on me now?”
“Someone has to make sure you consume something other than coffee.”
Kael snorted. “You volunteering to cook?”
“Hell no. I like you alive.” Drew joined him at the edge, quiet for a long while.
For a while, they just stood there—the soldier and the spy, the assassin and the lover—both pretending that the fragile peace around them could hold. The wind picked up, carrying the scent of rain from somewhere far away. Kael’s hand brushed Drew’s, and Drew took it without hesitation.
“Whatever’s coming,” Kael said, voice low, “we’ll meet it head-on.”
Drew nodded. “Like we always do.”
As the sun dropped below the horizon, Kael looked out over the darkening sea. The glint he’d seen earlier flickered again—faint, almost imagined—but this time, he didn’t doubt it.
Someone was watching them.
He squeezed Drew’s hand, the promise in the gesture silent but absolute.
Let them come.
****
The next morning began with the smell of coffee and the sound of Aunty Leilani humming somewhere in the kitchen.
The sunlight slanted through the slatted windows of the kitchen that sat just off the command center, painting everything in soft gold and green.
Drew sat at the big wooden table while Niko and Luka argued over who made better pancakes.
Keanu was lounging against the counter with his usual lazy grin, pretending to supervise while stealing slices of banana from the plate beside him.
For a man used to the smell of gunpowder and diesel, it almost felt domestic.
He hadn’t seen Kael this morning, he had been gone by the time Drew had surfaced.
Aunty smacked Keanu’s hand away. “You eat before everyone else again, I’ll feed you to the pigs.”
Keanu just winked. “They’d only complain that I’m too spicy.”
Laughter rippled through the room, easy and warm. Drew leaned back, savoring it. For years, he’d lived by the gun, adrenaline, and chaos his constants. Here, he was learning what quiet sounded like—and it scared him almost as much as he loved it.
He looked up as Kael came in, hair still damp from a shower, his expression unreadable. The tension in Kael’s shoulders was subtle, but Drew felt it like a pulse under his skin. Kael had been on edge since yesterday’s glint on the horizon.
“Eat,” Aunty ordered without turning. “And don’t argue with me.”
Kael gave a small smile and obeyed, sliding into the seat beside Drew. Their knees brushed, and the touch grounded him. “You sleep?”
“Some.” Drew sipped his coffee. “You?”
Kael just grunted. That meant not much.
After breakfast, the team scattered—Tane and Niko to fix the north gate, Luka and Keanu to check the sensors. Kael disappeared to review the drone footage, and Drew found himself alone with Aunty, who was slicing mangoes with surgical precision.
“You look restless,” she said without looking up.
“Can’t fool you, can I?”
“No, you can’t.” She paused, glancing up with sharp brown eyes. “You think too much. The sea is calm, take the quiet when it’s offered.”
He smiled. “I’m trying.”
“Try harder,” she said, then handed him a slice of mango. “Now, go bother your man before he broods himself into a hole.”
Drew took the fruit and her advice, walking down the stairs and into the garage. The sun beat down outside the large roller doors, heavy and hot, the air thick with the scent of salt and oil. Inside, he found Tane leaning over a workbench, checking his rifle.
“Morning,” Drew said.
Tane looked up, one eyebrow raised. “You mean afternoon.”
“Details.” Drew leaned against the bench. “You always this friendly before coffee?”
Tane put his rifle down and crossed his arms. “I’ll have you know that I have already had three cups this morning.”
“So that’s a no.” Dale sassed.
Tane’s mouth twitched. “What do you want, Hawkins?”
“Just wondering,” Drew said, leaning against the workbench, “how are the perimeter checks? Kael thought he saw something on the ridge yesterday.”
Tane wiped the grease from his hands and gave a curt nod. “Yeah, he told me. But they had all been clean. This place is locked down. Torch has enough flash bangs and concussion grenades set around the place to change the direction of the earth’s rotation and even the gulls would have to show ID.”
Drew chuckled, watching him. “You don’t buy that peace lasts long, do you?”
Tane met his eyes. “Not for men like us. But I’ll take the hours we do get.”
Drew nodded slowly. “Yeah. Me too.”
Tane reached for his weapon again and worked in silence for a few minutes, the rhythmic clink of tools the only sound. Drew found it oddly comforting. Finally, Tane spoke again. “Kael’s right to tighten security. Someone is watching us.” He looked up and locked eyes with Drew. “You feel it too?”
“Yeah,” Drew said quietly. “The air’s too still.”
Later, Drew took a walk along the cliff path, the ocean below catching the sunlight in shards of silver. The wind tugged at his hair and carried the faint tang of rain. He paused near the edge, scanning the waves.
He crouched, studying the ridge. Nothing but the usual wildlife and light movements. Still, his instincts hummed. Years undercover had honed them too sharply to ignore.
He keyed his comm. “Luka, you picking up anything on the perimeter sensors?”
“Clean,” Luka replied. “You expecting company?”
“Just asking.”
“Right,” Luka said dryly. “Because you only ask when your gut’s screaming at you. You and Kael are cut from the same cloth.”
Drew smiled faintly. “You know me too well.”
The rest of the afternoon passed in a rhythm of false calm. He cleaned his weapons, reorganized the med kit, and checked the garage doors twice. Kael found him there at dusk, leaning against the truck with grease-streaked hands.
“Could’ve used you earlier,” Kael said, his tone half amusement, half reprimand.
“Yeah? What for?”
“Keeping Torch from blowing us all to hell and back.”
Drew chuckled. “He still hasn’t learned the art of less is more, huh?”
“Nope, as far as he’s concerned, more will always be necessary.” Kael stepped closer, brushing his knuckles against Drew’s arm. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just... waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
Kael’s expression softened. “You and me both.”
They stood in the open doorway, watching the sun sink into the sea. The sky was streaked with orange and violet, the first stars pricking through the dark. Kael reached for his hand, their fingers intertwining. For a long moment, neither spoke.
Finally, Drew said, “You ever get the feeling we weren’t built for peace?”
Kael’s thumb brushed his palm. “Peace isn’t something you’re built for. It’s something you fight for.”
Drew looked at him, that answer lodging somewhere deep in his chest. “You make it sound easy.”
“It’s not,” Kael said. “It is the hardest fight to win, but nothing worth keeping ever is.”
They stayed there until the first drops of rain began to fall, cool and soft. The wind shifted, carrying the scent of storm and the promise of something coming. Drew felt it deep in his bones—a ripple in the calm, a warning in the air.
As Kael squeezed his hand, Drew glanced toward the horizon. The clouds were rolling in fast, heavy and dark, like a wall.
He didn’t know it yet, but this was the last quiet night they’d have for a long time.