Chapter 25 Mila
Mila
Location: Unknown — Moving
Time: Night
The road stretches out in front of me.
Endless.
Dark.
Unforgiving.
Exactly how I like it.
Exactly how I survive.
Headlights off.
Engine low.
Breathing steady.
I keep one hand on the wheel…
the other resting just close enough to my weapon to matter.
Because tonight?
Everyone is hunting me.
And they’re getting closer.
I shouldn’t have gone to the hospital.
That was the mistake.
The one crack in my armor.
The one moment I let myself—
feel.
My jaw tightens.
I push the thought away.
Not now.
Not ever again.
But it’s already there.
Burning.
Jase.
The way he looked when he was bleeding out.
The way he still tried to fight.
For me.
My grip tightens on the wheel.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I mutter under my breath.
But the truth?
He was never going to stop.
Not for orders.
Not for logic.
Not even for survival.
And that’s exactly why I had to leave.
Because they’re not just after me.
They’re after what I took.
Project Helix wasn’t just data.
It was power.
A network so deep, so embedded—
it doesn’t just exist in the shadows.
It is the shadows.
Judges.
Contractors.
Relief organizations.
Military supply chains.
All compromised.
All connected.
And every single one of them?
Would burn the world to get this list back.
I glance at the burner phone sitting on the passenger seat.
Still dark.
Still silent.
That won’t last.
A flash of headlights appears in my rearview mirror.
Far back.
Too far to panic.
But—
They don’t pass.
They don’t fall back.
They stay.
My pulse slows.
Not faster.
Never faster.
Slower means control.
Slower means I think.
“Okay…” I whisper.
Let’s see who you are.
I take the next turn without signaling.
Sharp.
Sudden.
The kind that should lose someone not paying attention.
The headlights follow.
No hesitation.
No delay.
My lips press into a thin line.
“Yeah,” I breathe.
“They found me.”
I push the car harder now.
Not reckless.
Precise.
Every move calculated.
Every turn deliberate.
Because this?
This isn’t a chase.
Not yet.
This is a test.
And they just failed it.
I reach down, flipping a switch under the dash.
The GPS scrambler kicks in.
Temporary.
But enough.
It buys me minutes.
Maybe less.
The phone lights up.
Right on cue.
Unknown number.
Of course.
I stare at it for half a second.
Then answer.
“Bad idea,” I say calmly.
A pause.
Then—
his voice.
Smooth.
Cold.
Controlled.
“You always were difficult to track.”
Ford.
My stomach tightens.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“You’re losing your edge,” I reply.
“You found me too easily.”
A quiet chuckle.
“You wanted to be found.”
“No,” I say, eyes flicking to the mirror.
“They’re just not as smart as they think they are.”
The headlights behind me get closer.
Faster now.
No more pretending.
“You took something that doesn’t belong to you,” Ford says.
“And you sent the wrong message doing it.”
“Funny,” I murmur.
“I thought I sent exactly the right one.”
A beat.
Then—
“You don’t understand what you’re holding.”
I smile slightly.
Cold.
Sharp.
“Oh, I understand it perfectly.”
My voice drops.
“Which is why you’re not getting it back.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Then—
“Where are you going to run, Mila?” he asks softly.
“There’s nowhere left that isn’t already ours.”
That?
That almost makes me laugh.
Almost.
“Then I guess you’d better catch me,” I say.
And hang up.
The headlights surge forward.
Closing fast now.
Too fast.
“Alright,” I whisper.
Game on.
I slam the gas.
The engine roars.
The road curves hard ahead—
and I take it without slowing.
Gunfire explodes behind me.
Bullets rip through the air.
One slams into the back of the car.
Metal screams.
“Not tonight,” I mutter.
I reach into the console.
Grab the flash drive.
Small.
Simple.
Worth killing for.
“You picked the wrong girl.”
I toss it into a hidden compartment beneath the seat.
Lock it.
Seal it.
Gone.
The car fishtails slightly as I take another turn.
Tires screaming.
Control snapping back into place.
They’re still behind me.
Still coming.
Good.
Because they think this is a chase.
They think I’m running.
They don’t realize—
I’m leading them somewhere.
And they’re about to regret it.