Chapter 92 Havoc
Havoc
The second I see the agent move—
I know.
Not hesitation.
Not curiosity.
Intent.
His hand comes out.
Slow.
Controlled.
Like he already owns what’s sitting in front of me.
“Careful,” he says, voice calm. “That needs to come with us.”
No.
I don’t even look at him.
My hand closes over the box first.
Solid.
Final.
“Not happening,” I say.
The air shifts instantly.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
Behind me, I feel Aspen go still.
Feel the tension roll through the team.
Weapons aren’t raised—
But they’re close.
Too close.
The agent doesn’t pull his hand back.
“Those materials are classified,” he says.
“They’re not yours,” I reply.
His jaw tightens.
“They are now.”
Wrong answer.
I look up.
Meet his eyes.
And I let him see it.
Every bit of it.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Then—
“They tie directly into an active federal operation,” he pushes.
“They tie directly into people who just tried to kill his family,” I fire back.
That lands harder.
Because now it’s personal.
Because now it’s real.
Behind me, Aspen steps closer.
I feel her hand brush my back.
Not stopping me.
Backing me.
Always.
The agent’s voice lowers.
“You’re compromising the investigation.”
I shake my head once.
“No,” I say. “You already did that.”
His eyes narrow.
And there it is—
The shift.
No more polite.
No more controlled conversation.
This is pressure now.
“You don’t understand what you’re holding,” he says.
I glance down at the maps.
The names.
The routes.
The tunnels.
Then back at him.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “I do.”
A beat.
Then—
“Do you?” he asks.
And something about the way he says it—
Doesn’t sit right.
Not warning.
Not concern.
Something else.
Something closer to…
Ownership.
My grip tightens on the box.
“You want to explain why those names are on there?” I ask.
His expression doesn’t change.
“Those are part of an ongoing investigation.”
“Funny,” I say. “Looks more like protection.”
That lands.
Hard.
Behind me, Briggs shifts.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “Real interesting investigation you’ve got.”
The agent ignores him.
Keeps his focus on me.
“You’re out of your lane.”
I take one step forward.
Now we’re close.
Too close.
“Then get in it with me,” I say.
The room tightens.
Again.
Always again.
Because no one here is backing down.
Not them.
Not us.
And definitely not me.
Aspen’s voice cuts in.
Soft—but steady.
“What happens if you take that?” she asks.
The agent glances at her.
Just briefly.
“Then we handle it.”
“No,” she says.
Stronger now.
“What happens to us?”
That’s the real question.
The one no one wants to answer.
The agent hesitates.
Just a flicker.
But I see it.
And that’s all I need.
“They disappear,” I say.
His eyes snap back to mine.
“That’s not what I said.”
“That’s exactly what you didn’t say,” I reply.
Silence.
Sharp.
Cutting.
The truth is sitting right there between us.
Ugly.
Real.
Behind me, I feel Aspen’s breath catch.
Feel her fear spike.
Not of the bad guys.
Of them.
Good.
She should be afraid.
Because I don’t trust a single one of them.
Not with this.
Not with her.
Not with any of it.
They knew what we would find.
The agent exhales slowly.
Then—
“Give me the box,” he says.
No more polite.
No more pretending.
There it is.
The command.
Final.
I don’t move.
“Take it,” he adds.
And just like that—
Everything stops.
The team shifts.
CIA agents tense.
Hands closer to weapons now.
This is it.
This is where it breaks.
I straighten slowly.
Box in one hand.
Other hand free.
Ready.
“You first,” I say.
His brow furrows.
“What?”
“You want it?” I continue quietly. “Come get it.”
The room goes dead silent.
Even the air feels like it’s holding its breath.
Because now?
Now we’re one move away from everything going to hell.
The agent studies me.
Long.
Hard.
Calculating.
Trying to decide—
If I’m bluffing.
I’m not.
Not even close.
Behind me, Briggs shifts.
Low voice.
“Just say the word.”
I don’t look at him.
Don’t need to.
Because I already know—
They’ve got my back.
Every single one of them.
Aspen steps closer.
Right behind me now.
I feel her.
Solid.
Steady.
Trusting me with everything.
That settles it.
The agent’s voice drops.
“You really want to do this?”
I meet his gaze.
Unblinking.
“Yes.”
A beat.
Then—
Movement.
Fast.
But not what I expected.
Not an attack.
Not a grab.
A shout.
From outside.
“CONTACT!”
Gunfire erupts.
Loud.
Close.
Too close.
Everyone moves at once.
Weapons up.
Chaos explodes through the barn, behind us.
“Ambush!” Briggs yells.
The CIA agents pivot instantly.
Returning fire.
And just like that—
The standoff is gone.
Replaced by something worse.
Because now?
We’re not just dealing with them.
We’re dealing with whoever wants that box bad enough to come in shooting.
I grab Aspen.
Pull her down behind the beam.
“Stay with me!” I snap.
“I’m here!” she fires back.
Good.
Gunfire cracks through the wood.
Splinters fly.
Someone screams.
“Left side!” a Ranger shouts.
“I see them!” another answers.
I risk a glance—
Shadows moving through the trees.
Multiple.
Organized.
Not random.
They knew we’d be here.
Of course they did.
Because this?
This was never just about finding the maps.
This was about who gets them.
I tighten my grip on the box.
Cold.
Solid.
Worth killing for.
Yeah.
I get it now.
I look at Aspen.
Her eyes are wide.
But she’s steady.
Still here.
Still with me.
Good.
Because we’re not losing this fight.
I shift.
Weapon up.
Focus locking in.
And I make one thing very clear in my head—
They can come at us with everything they’ve got.
They can send whoever they want.
But they’re not getting this.
This has the names of high-up, powerful people who demand that anyone who sees these names be killed.
And they’re sure as hell not getting Aspen.
Because now?
Now this isn’t just a fight.
It’s a war.
And I don’t lose wars.