Chapter 32

32

Kate woke up, though calling the continuing blackness morning seemed like a stretch. Her watch read 0700, but the numbers held little meaning in this disorienting environment. She felt like an astronaut, or at least what she imagined astronauts felt like, with no physical rhythm to the day except the self-imposed.

Or maybe she was just grasping for excuses to explain her own disorientation. Hawk's reappearance had hit her like a tidal wave, knocking her end over end and destroying what little equilibrium she had left.

The quiet didn't help. The storm had abated hours ago, leaving power restored. Gone was the shrieking and shaking from the wind and the pervasive thrum of the generator.

Across from her, Fenn snored softly, his breathing a steady rhythm in the darkness. Unable to lay still any longer, she grabbed her pillow and launched it at him.

Fenn's eyes snapped open, and he bolted upright. "Hey!" He reached for his own pillow but paused, setting it back down with a smirk.

"Afraid you'll miss?" she teased, desperately wanting to recapture the easy camaraderie they'd developed in Endurance before Hawk's sudden reappearance.

"Afraid I'll break that pretty nose of yours."

"Please, you couldn't hit the broad side of a barn."

"Is that a challenge?"

"More like a statement of fact."

Fenn clutched his chest dramatically. "And here I thought we were friends."

"Friends don't let friends make empty threats," she countered, enjoying the familiar banter.

"Who said anything about empty?" Fenn grinned, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

She laughed, the sound echoing in the small room. For a moment, she could almost forget the chaos that awaited them outside the sanctuary of their makeshift bedroom.

But reality had a way of creeping in, no matter how much she wished otherwise. As much as she longed to pretend that life hadn't turned upside down, it was time to face the truth.

And Hawk.

"Time to hit it," Fenn announced and slipped out of his sleeping bag.

She and Fenn moved about the cramped, cold space of the supply room, their breath visible in the air as they pulled on their clothes over their thick long underwear. The rustling of fabric filled the room, punctuated by the occasional shiver or muttered curse as they navigated the tight quarters.

She reached for her tactical pants, the heavy material stiff and unyielding in her hands. Balancing on one foot, she tried to slide the pants over the leggings, but the fabric bunched and caught, refusing to cooperate. She hopped awkwardly, trying to maintain her balance, and bumped into Fenn, who was struggling with his own pants.

"Sorry," she mumbled, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Fenn chuckled, the sound warm and familiar in the chill of the room. "No worries," he said, his voice muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head. "It's like trying to get dressed in a carboard box."

She snorted, the absurdity of their situation hitting her all at once. Here they were, two highly trained operatives, stumbling around like clumsy teenagers, all because of a few layers of clothing.

She finally managed to get her pants on, the waistband snug against her hips. She reached for her tactical shirt, the material cold and stiff against her fingers. As she pulled it over her head, the fabric caught on her hair, and she let out a frustrated growl.

Fenn, who had managed to get his own shirt on with minimal difficulty, reached over and gently untangled her hair from the collar. His fingers brushed against the back of her neck, and Kate felt a shiver run down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

"Thanks," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Fenn's eyes met hers, and for a moment, the rest of the world fell away. In that instant, it was just the two of them, caught in a moment of unexpected intimacy.

But the moment was fleeting, and reality came crashing back. They finished dressing quickly, the silence between them filled with a new kind of tension.

As they made their way out of the supply room, Kate couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. Something small, but significant.

They made their way out to the main living area, where Hawk was already waiting, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.

As they joined him at the small counter, the aroma of the coffee filled Kate's nostrils, and she couldn't help but inhale deeply, savoring the rich, invigorating scent.

Fenn poured two mugs and handed one to Kate.

Hawk wasted no time in discussing the plan, his voice low and urgent. "Looks like you're still my good luck charm, Kitty Cat. Storm's over early."

Ugh. She forced herself not to cringe at the outdated nickname. "Fenn and I are going to go back to the hotel and get our gear and the rest of our armament."

But Hawk had other ideas. "I need you here, helping me prep," he said, his tone casual but his eyes intense. "Fenn can go on his own." He jutted his clean-shaven chin at Fenn. "You're good with that, right? I figure you can grab whatever she needs."

Kate's stomach churned, a sense of unease washing over her. She glanced at Fenn, who looked equally skeptical, his brow furrowed in concern.

"We should stick together," Fenn insisted.

But Hawk wouldn't budge. "It'll be faster my way. We don't have a lot of time."

Kate hesitated, torn between her instincts and the need to move forward with their plan. Fenn was right. Splitting up was a risk, but she also knew that every minute counted.

"Okay," she said finally, her voice tight with reluctance. "Fenn, you take one of the snowmobiles. Hawk and I will meet you at the hotel with the other two machines."

Fenn picked up his mug, his eyes searching Kate's face for any sign of doubt. "You sure about this?"

Kate forced a smile, trying to project a confidence she didn't quite feel. "I'm sure," she said, her heart pounding in her chest. "We'll be right behind you."

Fenn sighed, his shoulders slumping in resignation. He set down his untouched mug and clapped his hands together. "Alrighty then. I'm outta here."

A minute later, he was back from the storeroom, kitted out in his parka, facemask and goggles, his duffle slung over one wide shoulder. "See you in a few," he told her and wrenched open the door to a swirl of dry snowflakes and frigid air.

Kate turned back to Hawk, who was already bent over the table, studying a weather map. "What exactly is this evidence we're retrieving?"

His brow was furrowed in concentration, his jaw clenched tight.

"Hand me that satellite image," he said, his voice clipped and cold.

She bristled at his tone but complied, sliding the image across the table. "What are we looking for?"

Hawk didn't look up, his finger tracing a path on the map. "The evidence," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It's in the main control room, according to my source."

Kate frowned, a sense of unease settling in her gut. "And who exactly is this source of yours?" she asked, her voice tight with suspicion.

Hawk's eyes flicked up to meet hers, and for a moment, she caught a glimpse of the man she once knew. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by an intense, hard stare. "That's need-to-know."

And she needed to know. She slammed her hand down on the table, the sudden noise startling in the quiet room. "We're in this together. You can't keep me in the dark."

"I'm not keeping you in the dark," he said, his voice clipped. "I'm trying to protect you."

"Protect me? Since when do you care about protecting me?"

Hawk's jaw clenched, and he looked away, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance. "Things change, Kate," he said, his voice low and rough. "People change."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but the words spilled out before she could stop them. "You've certainly changed," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "The Hawk I knew would never have treated me like a liability."

Hawk's eyes snapped back to hers. Pain flickered in their depths. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. "The Hawk you knew is long gone. If you can't accept that, maybe you shouldn't be here."

The words hit her like a physical blow. She took a step back, her eyes wide with shock and hurt. "Maybe I shouldn't."

She turned away, her eyes stinging with tears she refused to shed. As she busied herself with the gear, checking and double-checking every piece of equipment, she couldn't shake the feeling that the man standing before her truly was a stranger.

Maybe he always had been.

Could time and experience really change someone so fundamentally? Or had Hawk always been this way, hidden beneath the surface of the man she thought she knew?

As they prepared to set out into the frozen wilderness, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever really known Hawk at all. And if she hadn't, what did that say about her own judgment?

She pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the mission at hand. Whatever lay ahead, she would face it with the same strength and determination that had gotten her this far.

Even if it meant confronting the ghosts of her past and the man who had once held her heart in his hands.