Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Buck goes still, and for a second, I think I’ve finally said the thing that’ll turn this from an argument into a fight, but he looks past me, the office door opens, and Elena steps in.
She pins me in her sights. “What happened? Coach Wilkins told me he saw you run after someone.”
I glance at the other men, wishing I could spare Elena from all of this, but knowing that’s not the way, and not what she wants.
“I found him near the school,” I say. “He ran from a surveillance position under the trees, and I chased him.”
“But he got away?” she asks.
“He fired at Weston,” Calder says.
“What?” She spins toward me, the color draining from her face. “Are you hurt?” She looks me over, her eyes frantic, then runs her hands over my arms and chest, as if to confirm what she’s seeing.
“I’m fine. He missed.”
She exhales, but there’s not much relief in it. Keeping a hand on me, she turns toward the desk. “This is his stuff?”
Buck says it is, and it crosses my mind to tell her about the different cigarette brand and the possibility there may be more than one operator, but I don’t.
Instead, I turn her back toward me and squeeze her arm. “I think you and T.J. should be moved somewhere safer.”
Elena folds her arms over her chest. “No.”
I try again with a gentler tone. “Elena—”
“No.” She looks up at me, her gaze unwavering. “I’m not spending my life running because some man’s decided he gets to own what happened to Tyler. Or me. Or my son.” Emotion roughens her voice, but it doesn’t weaken her resolve. “We came here to build a life. T.J. likes it here. I finally feel like I can breathe here, and I’m not handing that over without a fight.”
Fear kicks hard in my chest. Not fear of Kozlov, but of what he can take. Or how quickly he can take it. With just one bullet, or one more fire, he can take Elena before I’ve even had the chance to tell her what she means to me. “This isn’t pride. It’s survival.”
“I know what it is.” She steps closer and puts a hand on my chest again. “I don’t want to run, and protecting me doesn’t mean deciding my life should get smaller.” She glances at Buck and Calder. “I’ve had this same discussion with them.”
I swipe a hand over my mouth, then nod, even though this is the hardest agreement I’ve made in a long time. “Okay.” I meet Buck and Calder’s eyes, then look back at her. “We end it here. I hate it, but if that’s your choice, I back it.”
I look down at the surveillance equipment spread out under the harsh overhead lights, then back at the woman standing in the middle of our argument like she belongs there more than any of us do.
Maybe instead of us deciding how to protect her, we’re learning that protecting her doesn’t mean boxing her in.
It means standing beside her when she decides to fight.
CHAPTER 35
CALDER
I’ve built mission packets before, but never like this.
Back then, there’d been layers behind the work. Analysts, secure channels, formal intel packages assembled by men far from the noise and blood of the actual fight. My specialty had been taking that information, finding the patterns, and turning it into something our team could use.
Now, it’s just me in Buck’s office at the station after midnight, with a laptop and a legal pad, finding the kind of answers I’d hoped not to find.
Buck went to the kitchen for a coffee refill twenty minutes ago. Weston is out doing another perimeter check. I stare at the message thread, reading the same lines over again.
Anton Kozlov had been asking favors from men who owed debts going back years. He was connected to a support network made up of old VDV and Spetsnaz ties providing access to military-grade gear and usable intel.
Not a lone wolf. Not a vandal with a gas can or a grieving brother lashing out blindly, but a trained operator with enough help to stay dangerous.
It’s a revenge mission with resources.
The office door opens, and both Buck and Weston come in holding three coffee mugs between them.
Weston clocks my expression immediately. “That bad?”
“Worse than I wanted.” I turn the laptop so they can see the messages.
Buck’s jaw tightens as he reads. “Former contacts.”
Weston leans in closer. “How many guys are we talking?”
“He doesn’t know for sure. Might be Kozlov doing the field work himself and using others for supplies and information. Might be one or two more hands in the background.” I pause. “Nobody’s saying he brought a whole team here, but it doesn’t have to be a whole team to ruin us.”
I push away from the desk, get to my feet, and cross the space, but the room isn’t big enough for the kind of movement I need.