47. Caleb
CALEB
The mountain roars.
Not thunder.
Rock.
Thousands of tons shifting above us.
The sound follows us into the construction shaft as the command room collapses behind our backs.
“Keep moving!” Rook orders.
He’s bleeding badly.
Still giving orders.
Mac supports his injured side as we climb.
The shaft angles upward through raw stone. Steel reinforcement ribs line the unfinished passage. Some have already twisted beneath the pressure.
Maverick and Reef take point.
Rogue follows with Cobra and the evidence case.
Fathom keeps one hand on it as though Cobra might drop it.
“I’m not letting this go,” Cobra says.
“That case contains half the First Circle’s history.”
“Exactly. Nobody touches it.”
Falcon climbs beside Shark, his injured arm secured against his chest.
Evie remains behind me.
Close.
Every few seconds, I look back.
“You keep checking,” she says.
“Yes.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do.”
A tremor strikes.
The shaft jerks sideways.
“Down!”
I turn and cover Evie as rocks tear through the support beams.
A slab of stone crashes into the passage ahead.
Dust consumes us.
For several seconds, I can’t see my own hands.
“Sound off,” Rook calls.
One by one, everyone answers.
Evie coughs beneath me. “I’m okay.”
I sit back and touch her face.
Her forehead.
Her neck.
Her shoulders.
She catches my hand.
“I’m still here.”
The words pass through every defense I have left.
I press my forehead briefly against hers.
“Stay that way.”
The dust begins to clear.
A wall of broken stone divides the shaft.
Mac stands on the far side.
Alone.
“Mac!” Rook moves toward the unstable opening.
Rocks fall between them.
Mac raises one hand.
“Stop.”
“We can get through.”
“No. The supports are gone.”
Rook studies the gap.
He knows Mac is right.
He hates it anyway.
Mac points upward. “This passage reconnects with the main shaft farther ahead.”
“How do you know?”
“I helped design the emergency routes.”
“You said this shaft was unfinished.”
“It was. The branches still meet near the surface.”
Another crack echoes above him.
The opening narrows.
Rook’s voice becomes hard. “We don’t split up.”
“We already have.”
“No.”
Mac gives him a faint smile.
“You came back for me. You trusted me when you had every reason not to.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m leaving you.”
“I’m asking you to trust me one more time.”
The mountain shudders.
More rock collapses between us.
Rook grips the edge of the opening.
“Outside.”
Mac nods.
“Outside.”
Neither says goodbye.
Victor’s rifle fires from the darkness behind Mac.
The bullet strikes the wall beside his head.
Mac dives for cover.
“Run!” he shouts.
He returns fire.
Not to win.
To keep Victor away from the evidence.
Rook’s jaw tightens.
Every instinct in him demands that he cross the rockfall.
Instead, he turns.
“Move.”
We climb.
Behind us, gunfire echoes through the collapsing mountain.
Short bursts.
Two men changing positions.
Hunting each other through the dust.
Mac fighting for redemption.
Victor fighting for an empire that has already abandoned him.