Chapter 43 Jase
Jase
The storm hits just after midnight.
Rain slams against the safehouse windows like it’s trying to break in. Wind howls through the trees, bending them hard enough to snap. The kind of night that makes everything feel exposed… even when you’re hidden.
Or maybe that’s just us.
I brace my hand against the table, the edge digging into my palm as I force myself to stay upright. My ribs protest. My shoulder burns. Fever still lingers under my skin like a slow fire.
Don’t care.
Not tonight.
The flash drive sits between us.
Small.
Black.
Worth more than everything I’ve ever fought for combined.
Mila stands across from me, arms crossed, eyes locked on it like she can already see the fallout. I look at her shirt where the blood stain is from the bullet grazing her.
“We can’t hand it to command,” I say.
Her gaze lifts. Steady. Certain.
“I know.”
That should make this easier.
It doesn’t.
“Then who?” I push. “Because sitting on it isn’t an option. Every second we wait, they’re covering tracks, moving money, disappearing people—”
“I said I know, Jase.”
Her voice cuts clean through mine. Not loud. Not angry.
Sharp.
Controlled.
And that’s worse.
I exhale hard, dragging a hand down my face. “Then give me something.”
Silence stretches between us.
The storm fills it.
Then—
“We go above them.”
I freeze.
Slowly look at her.
“You’re talking about the President.”
She doesn’t answer right away.
And that’s my answer.
I let out a quiet, disbelieving breath. “You don’t just call the President, Mila.”
“No,” she agrees.
Then her eyes meet mine.
“You don’t.”
There’s something in her expression I haven’t seen before.
Not fear.
Not hesitation.
Resolve.
The kind that comes with a cost.
“What are you not telling me?” I ask.
She holds my gaze for a long second… then uncrosses her arms and steps closer.
“There’s a protocol,” she says quietly. “Emergency clearance. Built for wartime scenarios—if command is compromised.”
I go still.
“One-use,” she continues. “Encrypted. Direct. No intermediaries.”
My pulse kicks harder.
“And after it’s used?”
Her lips press together slightly.
“Every system lights up.”
Of course it does.
I huff out a breath, shaking my head. “So the second we hit that… we’re exposed.”
“Yes.”
“And whoever’s behind this?” I glance at the flash drive. “They’ll know.”
“Yes.”
“Kill teams.”
“Yes.”
I stare at her.
“You’ve been holding onto this the whole time?”
“I’ve never needed it before.”
“And now?”
Her voice doesn’t waver.
“Now I do.”
Something tightens in my chest.
Not fear.
Not doubt.
Something deeper.
“You were just going to do this alone,” I say.
It’s not a question.
Her silence confirms it.
I push off the table, pain flaring through my side, but I don’t stop. I close the distance between us in two strides.
“Not happening.”
Her chin lifts slightly. “Jase—”
“No.” My voice drops. Firm. Unmovable. “You don’t carry this alone. Not this. Not anymore.”
Her eyes flash.
“You’re injured.”
“I’m standing. Besides, you’re also injured.”
“Barely.”
“Still standing.”
The tension snaps tight between us.
Storm outside.
Storm in here.
For a second, I think she’s going to argue harder.
Push me.
Shut me out.
Instead…
Her shoulders shift.
Not weaker.
Just… letting me in.
“This doesn’t end clean,” she says quietly.
“It never does.”
“If we do this,” she continues, “there’s no going back. No hiding. No pretending we’re off-grid.”
I step closer.
Close enough to feel the heat coming off her skin.
“Then we don’t go back.”
Her breath catches.
Just barely.
But I feel it.
“This could take everything,” she whispers.
I reach up, my hand settling lightly against her jaw, my thumb brushing her cheek.
“Then it takes everything,” I say. “As long as it doesn’t take you.”
Her eyes soften.
Just for a second.
And that’s all it takes.
Decision made.
She turns, moving to the small secured case tucked beneath the table. Pops it open. Inside—sleek, military-grade equipment. Compact. Purpose-built.
She pulls out a device I’ve never seen before.
No markings.
No identifiers.
Just power.
She sets it on the table.
The flash drive beside it.
“Once I start this,” she says, glancing at me, “there’s no stopping it.”
I nod.
“Do it.”
She inhales once.
Steady.
Then plugs the drive in.
The screen flickers.
Black.
Then—
A single line appears:
AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED
Mila’s fingers hover over the interface.
Then move.
Fast.
Precise.
Code after code after code.
The system responds instantly.
No delay.
No lag.
This thing isn’t connected to anything.
It is the connection.
Another line appears:
EMERGENCY CHANNEL REQUEST – LEVEL OMEGA
I feel it then.
That shift.
Like the world just tilted slightly off its axis.
“You ready?” she asks.
I look at her.
Really look at her.
Strong.
Brilliant.
Terrifying in the best way.
“Always.”
She presses enter.
The screen flashes.
Then—
CHANNEL OPENING
Outside—
Headlights cut through the storm.
My head snaps toward the window.
Low.
Fast.
Too fast.
“Mila—”
“I see them.”
Her voice is ice now.
Focused.
Locked in.
The screen behind her shifts again.
INCOMING SECURE RESPONSE…
But we don’t get to read it.
Because outside—
Doors slam.
Boots hit gravel.
Weapons load.
I grab my gun.
Pain screams through my body.
Ignore it.
Move anyway.
Mila reaches for hers without hesitation.
No fear.
No doubt.
Just fire.
I glance at her once.
She looks back.
And in that moment—
It’s not about the flash drive.
Not about the President.
Not about the war we just started.
It’s about us.
“Stay behind me,” I mutter.
She almost smiles.
“Not a chance.”
Yeah.
Didn’t think so.
The first shot shatters the window.
And everything explodes.
It’s been quiet for three days.
How do they keep finding us?