Chapter 3

3

Kate wiped the grease from her hands, the lingering taste of lunch turning sour in her mouth. The team's laughter and camaraderie had been a welcome distraction, but now, with the group on their way across the tundra with Burl, and her and Fenn back in the hangar with the damaged plane, the weight of her guilt settled heavily on her shoulders.

Fenn was bent over the strut, his brow furrowed. The sight of him, so focused and earnest, twisted the knife of regret deeper into her heart. She loathed this secretive side of herself, the lies, the manipulation. It was everything she despised, yet here she was, living it.

But what choice did she have? The threat had been explicit, the consequences of defiance unthinkable. Still, the thought of deceiving Fenn, of keeping him in the dark, made her stomach churn with self-loathing.

She wasn't a loner. She thrived on camaraderie, on teamwork. This new, deceitful reality was alien to her, and it fueled her anger at whoever had put her in this position.

He rummaged through the toolbox, oblivious to her turmoil. His eagerness to help only made the knot in her stomach tighten. She had sabotaged the plane, left her team vulnerable, and now she was shutting out the one person who had stayed behind to support her.

As Fenn approached, holding out a wrench, Kate snatched it from his hand. "I got it," she snapped, immediately regretting her harsh tone.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, a lopsided grin on his face. "Hey, I'm just trying to help."

"Well, you're about as helpful as a screen door on a submarine."

Fenn chuckled, unfazed. He dragged over a crate and sat beside her, stretching out his long legs. "This reminds me of the time I tried to fix my mom's toaster," he began, launching into a story.

Despite herself, she raised an eyebrow. "You electrocuted yourself?"

Fenn grinned. "Worse. I spent hours tinkering with it, convinced I could make it work better than ever. Finally, I put it back together, plugged it in, and…" He paused for dramatic effect.

"And?" She prompted, drawn in against her will.

"And it caught on fire. Flames shooting out, smoke everywhere. I panicked, grabbed the fire extinguisher, and sprayed the whole kitchen."

Half listening, she reached for a bolt, but her hand slipped, banging her knuckles against the landing gear. She hissed in pain, dropping the wrench with a clatter.

Fenn was at her side in an instant, his hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

The concern in his voice, the warmth of his touch—it was too much. She shrugged off his hand, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't keep lying to him.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "There's something I need to tell you."

He sat back down, his expression serious. "Uh, more like a lot of things."

Fingers trembling, she reached into her parka pocket, pulled out the note, and handed it over. "This is why I sent the team away. I have to deal with this. On my own."

Wrench in hand, she got back to work on the damaged strut.

Fenn whistled long and slow. "Quite the blast from the past."

"How would you know?"

"I've heard about what went down out there. Vague details," he added. "More like urban legends than a mission report."

Kate nodded, her throat tight.

His brow furrowed. He handed the note back. "You're saying this is similar to what happened to us. An op goes south and the brass scrambles to contain the mess. And disappear anyone they can pretend to blame."

"More or less." The chili soured in her stomach.

Only in her case, she deserved the blame. One hundred percent.

She tapped the wrench on her thigh, willing her mind away from dangerous territory. "Currents upon currents. And I have no idea why this is resurfacing now. Zero. All I know is this is my fight. I can't risk putting the team in danger. That's why I…sabotaged the plane."

No way would she tell him the rest. The ugliest part. He had all the info he needed to keep himself safe. The rest would only destroy any relationship they might have.

In her heart, though, she knew that even if she succeeded in hunting down her tormentor, she'd never have the kind of relationship she'd dreamed about with Fenn.

A shadow crossed her vision. She flinched back, but it was only Fenn, sidling up to her. He pressed a hand into the side of the jet and struck a casual pose, only his expression was dead serious.

"You don't have to solve this on your own. You know that, right? Home electronics aren't my thing, but spycraft. That's my jam. I got this."

No. He didn't.

She was more grateful for his company than he'd ever know, but she couldn't allow him to help. That would mean showing him the blackness in her soul.