16. Evie
EVIE
Dozens of boots move through the forest.
Caleb closes Fathom’s tablet, hiding the photograph of his father.
No one has time to ask what the word LEGACY means.
Branches snap above us.
A voice carries across the ridge.
“Federal tactical team! Drop your weapons and place your hands above your heads!”
These aren’t Graves’s mercenaries.
They’re legitimate federal officers acting on false intelligence.
Men and women who believe they’ve cornered armed terrorists responsible for attacking a classified facility.
“We can’t shoot them,” I whisper.
“We won’t,” Caleb says.
Rook surveys the trail. “Options?”
Mac pushes himself away from the tree. He can barely stand, but his eyes remain alert.
“You want to know what Graves does next?”
Rook looks at him. “You helped write his playbook.”
“I did.”
“Then talk.”
Mac glances toward the approaching federal teams. “Graves stops thinking like a soldier.”
Cobra adjusts his rifle. “And?”
“He starts thinking like a politician.”
“I hate politicians.”
A faint smile passes across Mac’s bruised face. “After today, so will all of you.”
Fathom checks the satellite feed.
“More teams are moving into position. State police on the highways. Federal tactical units on the mountain. National Guard checkpoints farther out.”
“They’re closing every exit,” I say.
“No,” Mac replies. “They’re closing every public exit.”
Rook’s gaze hardens. “You know another way.”
“I know several. I helped Graves design contingency plans for this region.”
“Convenient,” Cobra mutters.
Mac doesn’t defend himself.
“You don’t trust me.”
“No,” Rook says.
“You shouldn’t.” Mac rubs his bleeding wrists. “I spent years helping men like Walter Graves build emergency networks. I know the old roads, the buried tunnels, and the Cold War escape routes.”
Regret changes his voice.
“I wish I didn’t.”
The federal commander calls again.
“Shadow Division, you are surrounded. Place your weapons on the ground.”
Caleb is watching the valley instead of the officers closing around us.
Something below has captured his attention.
“What is it?” I ask.
He hands me the binoculars.
A black SUV moves toward the disabled helicopter.
Walter Graves steps out.
He isn’t running anymore.
He calmly straightens his suit jacket and looks toward our ridge.
“He’s smiling.”
“He should be,” Caleb says.
Cobra turns toward him. “Why?”
“He has the government between us and him. If we fight our way out, we prove his story.”
Walter removes a satellite phone from his pocket.
He dials.
Waits.
Then says something too brief to be an order.
His posture changes as he listens.
“He’s reporting to someone,” I say.
Caleb’s gaze remains fixed on him. “Yes.”
“Then Graves has a boss.”
Mac looks toward the bunker.
“Of course he does.”
Everyone turns toward him.
“You knew?” I ask.
“I suspected. The First Circle doesn’t give anyone complete control.”
“What does that mean?”
Before Mac can answer, a stun grenade sails through the trees.
Caleb knocks it away with his boot.
It detonates down the slope.
White light floods the forest.
“Move!” Rook orders.
We race along the upper trail as federal officers enter the ridge behind us.
No one fires.
Not Shadow Division.
Not yet.
Mac leads us toward a wall of rock covered with vines. He finds an old metal ring and pulls.
A narrow door opens in the mountainside.
“A tunnel?” Cobra asks.
“Part of an abandoned relay system,” Mac says.
Rook gestures toward the opening. “Inside.”
Cobra and Fathom enter first.
Mac follows.
I start after them, but Caleb remains outside.
“Caleb.”
“Go.”
“The federal team is less than fifty yards away.”
“I’m closing the door.”
“I can do that from inside.”
His eyes meet mine.
For one terrible second, I understand.
He’s preparing to stay behind if the door won’t close in time.
Just as his file said he always did.
I grab his jacket.
“No.”
“Evie.”
“You don’t get to stay behind.”
“They’re almost here.”
“Then we’d better move.”
Rook appears in the doorway and catches Caleb’s arm.
“Together, brother.”
The first officer emerges through the trees.
Caleb steps inside.
Rook pulls the door shut.
Darkness swallows us.
A beam of light passes across the narrow crack beside my face.
The federal team is on the other side.
Mac lowers his voice. “They’ll find the entrance.”
“How long?” Rook asks.
“Ten minutes if they have the original plans.”
“And if Graves gave them the plans?”
“Two.”
Cobra shines his flashlight down the tunnel. “Then I suggest we quit standing here.”
We hurry into the darkness.
Behind us, metal scrapes against stone.
They’ve already found the door.