Chapter 9 Ethan
Ethan
Petrov’s dying.
I don’t need Ava to say it.
I hear it in the back seat—the wet, uneven drag of his breath. Each inhale sticks like it’s catching on something inside him. Each exhale rattles harder than the last.
Too fast. Too shallow.
Wrong.
“Pull over.” Ava’s voice cuts through the car, sharp as a blade.
I tighten my grip on the wheel. “We don’t have time—”
“He dies if you don’t.”
No panic. No emotion.
Just certainty.
I take the turn too hard, tires screaming as we veer off onto a narrow service road. Gravel spits beneath us. Trees close in, swallowing the road whole.
No cars.
No lights.
No witnesses.
Perfect.
I kill the engine before we’ve fully stopped.
Ava’s already moving.
By the time I twist around, she’s in the back seat, hands buried in blood, pressing hard against Petrov’s abdomen. It’s everywhere—slick, dark, soaking through her sleeves. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t hesitate.
I grab the med kit and shove it into her hands.
“Talk to me.”
“Entry wound, upper abdomen.” Her fingers press deeper, searching, assessing. “He’s bleeding out internally.”
Petrov chokes on a breath, his body jerking under her grip.
“If we don’t stabilize him,” she adds, already reaching for gauze, “we lose him.”
I hand her whatever she reaches for before she even asks.
She moves like muscle memory.
Fast. Controlled. Exact.
Like she’s done this before.
Too many times.
“Stay with me,” she murmurs, leaning closer to Petrov, her voice dropping—softer now, steadier. “You don’t get to check out yet.”
His eyelids flutter.
Barely.
But it’s enough.
I shouldn’t be watching her.
Should be scanning the road. Listening. Planning.
But I can’t look away.
Everything else disappears for her in moments like this. The danger. The mission. Me.
Nothing’s changed.
Not even after everything.
“You learned all this… where?” I ask, already knowing I won’t like the answer.
Her hands don’t slow.
“Where do you think?”
Yeah.
That sits like a stone in my chest.
Petrov gasps again, a wet sound tearing through him.
Ava presses harder.
“Easy,” she whispers, her tone shifting again—gentler, grounding. “I’ve got you.”
That softness—
I’ve never heard it like that.
Not even when we—
I shut that thought down.
“Why him?” Ava asks suddenly, not looking up.
“What?”
“This ambassador,” she says, tightening the bandage. “Why is he on the list?”
I exhale slowly, glancing toward the trees.
Because this is where it gets worse.
“Because he’s not just an ambassador.”
That gets her attention.
Her eyes flick up to mine, sharp.
“What is he?”
“He’s funding something,” I say. “Off-books. Intelligence flagged it before the list surfaced.”
Her jaw tightens, just slightly.
“Then this wasn’t random.”
“It never is.”
Petrov groans, louder this time.
Ava leans closer, almost hovering over him now.
“Hey. Stay with me.”
His lips move.
I shift beside her, leaning in.
“What?” she asks, lowering her ear closer.
His voice scrapes out, broken, barely there.
“List… not targets…”
Ava frowns. “What do you mean?”
He coughs.
Blood spills from the corner of his mouth.
Damn it.
“Not… targets…” he forces out again. “Replacement…”
The word lands like a gunshot.
Everything stills.
Ava freezes for half a heartbeat.
So do I.
Then—
“What?” she demands, sharper now.
Petrov’s trembling hand grips her sleeve, weak but desperate.
“They’re not… killing…” His breath hitches. “They’re clearing…”
My brain is already moving.
Connecting dots I don’t want connected.
“No,” I mutter under my breath.
Ava’s eyes snap to mine. “What?”
I hold her gaze.
“They’re not just taking people out.”
Her expression shifts—cold realization sliding into place.
“They’re replacing them.”
Yeah.
That’s exactly what this is.
And that means—
This isn’t a hit list.
It’s a takeover.
Petrov exhales hard, his body going slack.
Ava moves instantly, checking him, pressing again.
“He’s still here,” she says, urgency creeping in now. “Barely.”
We’re out of time.
I climb back into the front seat and fire the engine.
“We need to move.”
She doesn’t argue.
Good.
The engine roars to life—
—and headlights slam into the rearview mirror.
Fast.
Too fast.
Ava sees it at the same time I do.
“We’ve got company.”
Of course we do.
I slam it into gear and punch the gas.
Gravel sprays as we launch forward.
The SUV behind us closes the gap like it’s nothing.
Professionals.
Not random.
“Can you take the shot?” I ask, eyes flicking between road and mirror.
Ava glances back, calculating angles, distance—
Then shakes her head.
“No clean shot without hitting him.”
Damn it.
The SUV gains.
And then—
Another one appears ahead.
Blocking the road.
A trap.
“They’re boxing us in.”
I don’t slow down.
Don’t hesitate.
“Good.”
Her eyes snap to mine.
That look—
God, I remember that look.
“You have a plan?” she asks.
I tighten my grip on the wheel.
“Always.”
The SUV ahead grows larger.
Closer.
Closer—
Ava braces, one arm locked around Petrov.
“Ethan—”
“Trust me.”
The words are out before I can stop them.
Silence crashes into the car.
For a split second—
Then she shifts, planting her feet, holding Petrov tighter.
“Do it.”
That’s all I need.
I don’t brake.
Don’t swerve—
Until the last possible second.
Then I rip the wheel right.
The car launches off the road—
Drops hard down the embankment—
Metal screams as we crash through brush—
Branches slam against the windows—
The frame shudders—
Ava grits her teeth, holding Petrov in place.
“Easy—easy—stay with me—”
We slam through another wall of undergrowth—
Then—
Level out.
Hidden.
Buried beneath trees and shadow.
Gone.
I kill the engine instantly.
Silence crashes in.
Thick. Heavy.
The only sound—
Breathing.
Mine.
Hers.
Alive.
We’re alive.
For now.
Ava exhales slowly, her grip finally loosening just a fraction.
“That was insane.”
I glance back at her.
“You’re welcome.”
A breath leaves her—almost a laugh.
Almost.
Then it’s gone.
Her expression sharpens again, all focus.
“We can’t stay here long.”
“I know.”
She looks at me then.
Really looks.
And something shifts.
Not just tension.
Not just history.
Something deeper.
Something… building.
“We’re not just stopping this,” she says quietly.
I hold her gaze.
“No.”
Because now we know.
“We’re in the middle of it.”
And if Petrov’s right—
This isn’t a mission.
It’s a silent war.
And we might be the only ones who see it coming.