Chapter 19 #2
"It's all we've got," Kane says. "The Committee operates on cost-benefit analysis. We just changed the calculation. Now we wait to see if they adjust their strategy."
The contact continues its methodical search pattern. An hour passes. Reeve moves with the kind of patience that suggests he's prepared to spend days mapping this terrain if necessary.
Tommy provides periodic updates as the signature shifts position. Heading northwest. Pausing to check something. Doubling back to verify a reading. Every movement speaks to professional tradecraft and terrifying competence.
"He's good," Mercer mutters, watching the screen with the assessment of one professional evaluating another. "Better than Kessler was."
"Kessler was a hammer," Stryker says. "Reeve is a scalpel."
The comparison makes my stomach turn. We barely survived Kessler's assault on the safe house. What happens when someone more skilled, more patient, more methodical comes after us?
Dylan shifts in his chair, favoring his injured shoulder. "What's his background?"
"Former SAS," Hawthorne says. "Special reconnaissance. Spent years operating behind enemy lines in hostile territory. The Committee recruited him after he left the service."
"Why'd he leave?" Sarah asks.
"Officially? Medical discharge after an injury." Hawthorne's expression darkens. "Unofficially? Suspected of executing prisoners during an operation in Afghanistan. The brass couldn't prove it but they wanted him gone."
"So he's not just skilled," Dylan says. "He's got no moral boundaries."
"None that I've ever detected," Hawthorne confirms. "The Committee values that quality."
We watch in silence as Reeve continues his search. The heat signature moves further northwest, heading away from our position. Tommy tracks the movement, adjusting sensor coverage to maintain contact.
Then he stops. Just stops moving, the reading holding steady in one location.
"What's he doing?" Kane asks.
Tommy zooms in, trying to get more detail. "Can't tell. He's stationary but the heat signature suggests he's not resting. Maybe checking equipment. Maybe analyzing data."
"Or maybe he found something," Stryker says quietly.
We watch the stationary signature, waiting for movement that doesn't come. The seconds drag. A minute passes. Then another.
Then he shifts. Not continuing the search pattern. Moving directly toward us.
"He's coming," Tommy says. "Bearing two-seven-zero, speed increasing. He's not searching anymore. He's approaching with purpose."
Kane's expression doesn't change but his voice sharpens. "Distance?"
"Still out. But closing."
"Countermeasures. Now." Kane looks at the assembled operators.
"Mercer, Dylan, you're on defensive positions despite your injuries.
Stryker, you're with me. Hawthorne, you're armed and on standby.
" Kane looks at me. "Rachel, you stay in ops with Lucas.
Willa, Delaney, Reagan, Khalid—everyone stays together.
If this goes sideways, Tommy and Sarah coordinate evacuation. You all go out together. Understood?"
My throat goes dry. "Understood."
"Authentication code is Jellybean," Kane adds. "Anyone comes for you without that code, you don't go."
I nod.
Stryker catches my arm. "You stay in ops no matter what you hear. Understand? No matter what."
"I understand."
His hand cups my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone. "I'll come back."
"You better," I manage.
Then he's gone, moving with Kane toward the armory. Hawthorne follows. Sarah stays at her console, pulling up defensive protocols. Tommy's fingers fly across his keyboard, tracking Reeve's approach.
I run for the gym where Lucas is playing with Khalid and Odin. They look up when I burst through the door, my expression probably telling them everything before I speak.
"We need to go back to operations," I say, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. "Right now."
Lucas's face goes pale but he doesn't argue. Just grabs Ghost and runs to me. Khalid is already moving, Odin at his heels.
We move through corridors at a run. The base has shifted into lockdown mode, blast doors closing automatically, emergency lighting casting everything in red.
When we get back to operations, Tommy doesn't look up from his screens. Sarah has communications open, coordinating with Kane's team as they take defensive positions. Willa stands ready for casualties. Delaney and Reagan huddle together near the secondary console, both pale but steady.
I pull Lucas close, settling into a corner where we're out of the way. Khalid positions himself near the door with Odin, his hand resting on the sidearm Dylan taught him to use. Sarah glances over, her expression tight but controlled.
"He's searching again," Tommy says quietly, tracking the thermal signature. "Pattern's expanding. He's thorough."
Lucas huddles against me, trying to be brave. I hold him and watch the displays, knowing that somewhere out in the Montana wilderness, Reeve is hunting. And if he finds Echo Base, if he breaches the facility, our best chance is staying together and getting out fast.
Time drags. The contact continues its methodical grid search, heading away from our position, then doubling back. Reeve has patience that makes every minute feel like an hour.
Then Tommy stiffens. "Movement change. He's stopped again. It’s like he’s trying to hone in on something."
On the screen, the heat signature holds steady. We watch the stationary signature, waiting for movement that doesn't come. The seconds drag. A minute passes. Then another.
Then he moves. Not continuing the search pattern. Coming directly toward us.
Sarah's hand moves to her comm. "All positions, target inbound with increasing speed. Bearing two-seven-zero."
Kane's voice comes back, calm and controlled. "Copy. Standing by."
I tighten my grip on Lucas. This is it. Reeve found something. Something that told him exactly where to look.
Minutes tick by like hours. Tommy tracks the approach, calling out bearings and distances. Sarah coordinates defensive positions. I hold Lucas and try not to think about what happens if Reeve breaches the facility.
Then Tommy exhales sharply. "He's stopping. Holding position."
We watch the display. The heat signature stays motionless.
"What's he doing?" Sarah asks.
"Don't know. But he's not advancing." Tommy adjusts his sensors. "Wait. He's moving again. Away from us. Heading northwest."
"He's retreating," Sarah says, disbelief in her voice.
Fifteen more minutes of tracking before Tommy confirms it. "He's gone. Back the way he came. Reeve's pulling out."
The tension in operations doesn't ease. Not yet.
Then footsteps in the corridor. Stryker appears in the doorway, exhaustion written across his face. But he's alive and standing and here.
"Is it over?" I ask.
"No." He crosses to where we're sitting. "Reeve retreated. Hawthorne thinks he was probing our defenses, not committing to full assault. But he got closer than we wanted. Close enough to confirm there's definitely something here worth investigating."
Everything in me goes cold. "So he'll be back."
Stryker looks at Lucas, then at me. "And next time, he'll come prepared."
I pull Lucas closer, his small body warm against mine. The testimony is secured. The recording exists in multiple locations. But none of that matters if Reeve breaches Echo Base and finds us.
We just made my son a documented witness.
Now we need to keep him alive long enough for that documentation to matter.