Chapter 26
Ghost and his team landed just before sunrise. The sky was only beginning to split gold across the horizon, painting the Pacific in molten light. On any other day, Ghost might’ve noticed. Might’ve let the calm settle in. Not today, the beauty of it felt like a goddamn lie.
The wheels hadn’t even cooled when he stepped off the bird, his boots hitting tarmac like a man already halfway gone. The secure device tucked in his chest rig powered down with a flick of his wrist. He didn’t glance at it again.
He moved through the motions, standard debrief, ops summary, gear check, but none of it landed.
The words hit his ears like molasses. It was muffled, distant, because something felt off.
Had been since the moment they’d lifted off.
A weight he couldn’t shake. Like something was unraveling just out of reach.
As soon as command dismissed them, the team peeled off, Predator cracking a joke, Torch calling dibs on the first cold beer, Echo tossing his pack into the back of a truck.
He walked off without a word, never once looking back. He crossed the lot alone and climbed into his truck, the scent of jet fuel still clinging to his clothes. The early morning air cut clean across his face as he sat there for a beat, hands on the wheel, mind already a hundred miles away.
Then he powered on his phone. It lit up with a dozen missed messages, operational pings, mission syncs, spam, noise, but only one mattered. Missed call. 1:56 AM. Rachel.
His thumb hovered for half a second, then he hit play. Her voice cracked through the speaker, soft and shaking.
“Logan… I don’t know if you’re back yet. I don’t even know if you’ll get this in time.”
His entire body went rigid. Frozen. He recognized this stillness, it came right before he squeezed a trigger.
“There are men in my apartment.” He stopped breathing. His grip on the phone went white-knuckled. Blood roared in his ears.
“I—I saw them outside first. Watching me. I thought maybe I was being paranoid, but then they came inside. They were searching for something.”
He clenched his jaw so tight it clicked. “No way in hell,” he muttered, barely audible.
“They were looking for something, Logan.”
His vision narrowed.
“I got out through my window. I’m hiding outside now in the bushes, but I don’t know how long I have before they realize I’m gone.”
His heart pounded once, hard, then fell into that low, deadly rhythm. Mission tempo.
“I uncovered something… something big. Corruption. Military officers. I—I can’t say more over the phone. I don’t know who’s listening.”
He stood motionless. Her voice trembled, but there was something determined underneath, she was forcing herself to stay composed.
“I don’t know who to trust. I don’t know if they’re watching you too. What if… what if someone close to you is involved?”
The blow landed hard. Ghost rocked back into the seat, stomach turning to stone. Rachel didn’t speculate. She never had. If she said it, she believed it. And if she believed someone near him was compromised… Then this wasn’t just a threat. It was a war.
“You need to protect yourself. If anything were to happen to you, I…”
He closed his eyes. The pause on the line hollowed out his chest.
“If you get this… just know that I—I wanted to hear your voice one more time.”
The message ended. Ghost sat motionless, fury and fear crawling under his skin.
He stared at the phone, thumb still pressed to the glass. Her voice echoed in his mind, strained, trying to stay controlled but failing. He'd heard the fear underneath. She'd called him specifically. Not the police. Not a friend. Him.
She’d known he’d come. That trust hit hard.
She’d been out there alone, hiding God knew where, watching men tear through her apartment looking for something she wasn’t supposed to have. No way out. No margin for error.
He dragged in a breath through his nose. That last part of her message stuck like a blade between the ribs.
“What if someone close to you is involved?”
Rachel didn’t rattle over nothing. If she said it, she meant it. Which meant whatever she’d uncovered went deep. Inside the wire. Maybe higher.
His pulse shifted into something slower, sharper.
Where was she now? How far had she gotten? Did she have anything with her, cash, ID, the evidence? The camera bag, probably. That thing never left her side. It’d be on her now. Which meant if they caught her, they’d get everything.
Five hours had passed since that message. Ghost checked his watch for the third time in as many minutes. Anything could have happened by now.
Discipline held him tight, coiled like a spring beneath his skin. Every lesson ever drilled into him surfaced, clear and methodical and sharp: log out, report in, secure your chain.
He slammed his truck door and cut through the base, each stride sharp and certain. Rachel was in danger and there wasn’t a damn thing in this world that would stop him from getting to her.
He reached his CO’s office, didn’t bother with more than a knock before stepping inside. Commander Anders looked up, expression unreadable. Ghost didn’t wait.
“Sir, I need to go. Now.”
Anders didn’t blink. “Talk.”
“Rachel Parker—she’s not safe. She uncovered corruption. Stateside. Officers selling weapons to insurgents. She called me last night from her apartment. Someone broke in. She’s gone.”
Anders brows pulled together, concern flickering beneath the calm. “Ghost, are you certain this isn’t just paranoia?”
Ghost’s voice cut low. Dangerous. “She left me a voicemail at two in the morning, terrified for her life. That’s not paranoia.”
He stepped closer. “You know she’s telling the truth, or else they wouldn’t be trying to bury her.”
Anders studied him, silence stretching. Then, one sharp nod. “What do you need?”
“Extended leave. Immediate.” Ghost’s voice was iron. “I need to find her and get her somewhere safe.”
Anders didn’t ask another question. “Approved. Take what you need.”
Ghost turned for the door, every muscle already in motion, but Anders’s voice stopped him. “I’ll have Echo send you her last known address. Keep me updated.”
Ghost nodded once. “Yes, sir.”
Then he was gone. Already moving. Already hunting. Ghost barely felt the wind cutting across the tarmac as he stepped off the base. His mind was already moving faster than his feet. Mapping exits. Priorities. Tracking what little intel they had.
Rachel was out there. Alone. Hunted. He’d failed once. He wouldn’t do it again.
By the time he reached his truck, Echo had already pinged her last known location, cell tower triangulation placing her somewhere between the northern edge of downtown and the marina district. Echo followed it up with her apartment address.
The moment he slid behind the wheel, he was no longer just Logan Hayes. He was Ghost. Mission in hand.
Target: Extract.
Status: Critical.
The cost didn’t matter. The depth didn’t scare him. Someone had marked her, and they were going to bleed for it.