Chapter 15

15

Getting out of the LA area had taken far longer than Alex expected, though she couldn’t argue with Jason’s methodical approach. After Mac and Liv arrived at the motel to get Gravy, Jason insisted the two of them ride countless city busses, and two different subway lines before agreeing that he’d find them transportation to the safe house his teammate, Mason, had arranged.

Now, ten hours later, and three hundred miles north, she was starving, and deep-fried exhausted.

As the sun dipped low over the Pacific, Alex fiddled with the frayed edges of her new, garishly bright “I Big Sur” t-shirt. The cotton blend scratched at her skin, a far cry from the silk blouses hanging in her closet back home. She glanced at Jason, his steady hands gripping the wheel of the ‘67 Mustang he’d spied collecting dust in the back corner of a used car lot.

She shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat. “A muscle car? Seriously?”

Jason’s lips quirked upward. “Nothing says we can’t make the drive fun.”

The car’s engine purred as they wound along Highway 1, towering redwoods flanking one side, the ocean stretching endlessly on the other. Alex’s stomach grumbled, reminding her of the gas station feast nestled in a plastic bag at her feet.

“I can’t believe this is dinner,” she grumbled, fishing out a package of beef jerky.

“Sorry, that gas station was all out of caviar.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “I’d settle for a salad that hasn’t been sitting in a cooler for a week.”

Jason chuckled, his eyes never leaving the road. “Well, princess, our five-star accommodations await. Mason hooked us up with a real gem.”

As midnight approached, the Mustang’s headlights cut through the fog rolling in from the Pacific. Alex stifled another yawn, her eyelids heavy after hours on the road. She shifted in her seat, the tacky tourist shirt still itching against her skin.

“Please tell me we’re almost there,” she murmured, peering into the darkness.

Jason nodded, guiding the car around a sharp bend. “Just up ahead.”

Suddenly, a sleek silhouette materialized through the mist. Alex’s jaw dropped as they pulled up to a stunning modernist structure, all glass and sustainable wood, perched dramatically on the cliff’s edge.

“This is the safe house?” she asked, unable to mask her surprise.

Jason killed the engine, a hint of amusement in his voice. “My man Mason generally goes big.”

As they stepped out of the car, the sound of crashing waves filled the air. A cool, salty breeze caressed Alex’s face, providing welcome relief after hours in the stuffy vehicle.

“This is not terrible,” Alex admitted, drinking in the view. Moonlight danced on the water far below, and the house seemed to float above it all, a perfect blend of luxury and seclusion.

Jason chuckled, retrieving their meager belongings from the trunk. “Don’t get too comfortable. We’re still on the run, remember?”

Alex sighed, following him up the path to the front door. “A girl can dream, can’t she? In another life, this would make one hell of a romantic getaway.”

She caught the raised eyebrow Jason shot her way and quickly added, “You know, if I wasn’t stuck here with G.I. Joe.”

As Jason worked the high-tech lock, Alex couldn’t help but marvel at the house’s eco-friendly design. Solar panels gleamed in the moonlight, and she spotted a sophisticated rainwater collection system.

The door swung open, revealing an interior that was just as impressive. Her tired eyes widened at the sight of plush furniture, state-of-the-art appliances, and floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the breathtaking ocean view.

“Okay,” she breathed, a smile tugging at her lips despite her exhaustion. “I officially forgive you for the shirt.”

She sank into the plush sofa, letting the rhythmic crash of waves wash over her. The house smelled of cedar and sea salt, a soothing combination that eased some of the tension from her shoulders. Jason moved efficiently around the space, gathering firewood and arranging logs in the massive stone fireplace. Soon, a warm glow filled the room, chasing away the lingering chill. Alex found herself studying the play of firelight across Jason’s features, the way it softened the hard lines of his face.

Shaking herself, she stood abruptly. “I’ll check the security system.”

As her fingers flew over the touchscreen panel, bringing up camera feeds and perimeter sensors, her mind wandered. What would it be like to have a normal life? To come to a place like this for a romantic weekend, instead of as a fugitive?

She snorted softly. As if she’d ever been a “real girl.”

“Everything secure?” Jason’s voice startled her from her reverie.

She turned to find him in the kitchen, deftly cracking eggs into a bowl. “Since when do Army guys cook?”

He flashed a grin that made her heart skip a beat. “We’re full of surprises. Hope you like omelets.”

As Jason worked his culinary magic, Alex perched on a barstool, inhaling the mouthwatering aroma of cheese and herbs. “I’m worried about Gabriel,” she admitted softly.

Jason’s movements slowed for a moment. “I know the feeling. Gravy’s tough, but ...” He trailed off, focusing intently on folding the omelet.

“But he’s family,” Alex finished. Their eyes met in silent understanding.

When Jason slid the plates onto the counter, Alex was surprised to see him bow his head slightly. “Mind if we say grace?”

A warmth that had nothing to do with the fire spread through her chest. “I’d like that.”

Their quiet “amen” seemed to linger in the air, a moment of peace before reality crashed back in.

As they ate—the omelet was annoyingly delicious—she leaned forward. “So, what’s our next move?”

Jason’s expression turned serious. “We need to figure out who Seven-Five is after. Is it Gravy? Me and my team? Yours?”

“Or all of the above,” Alex nodded, her mind already racing. “We should start by cross-referencing our missions from the past year. Look for any overlaps, shared targets, or common locations. There might be a pattern we’ve missed.”

Jason frowned, shaking his head. “That could take weeks. We don’t have that kind of time. I say we track down one of Seven-Five’s low-level operatives and squeeze them for information.”

She jumped to her feet. “And how exactly do you propose we do that without tipping our hand? We can’t just grab someone off the street and hope they know something useful.”

So much for feeling all warm and cozy. She paced the length of the living room, her bare feet silent on the polished hardwood. The moonlight streaming through the windows cast long shadows, mirroring the twisting paths of her thoughts.

Jason leaned against the fireplace, his face etched with frustration. “We need to lure their hunters into the open. Hit them back,” he suggested, for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Sure. How about we just blow something up?” Alex cut in, exasperation clear in her voice. “What we need is intel.”

He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it further. “Sitting around playing mind games isn’t exactly my style.”

“No, your style is more ‘boom first, ask questions later.’” She took a deep breath, forcing herself to soften her tone. “Psychological warfare might take longer, but it’s safer and more effective in the long run.”

Jason’s jaw clenched.

She spread her hands wide. “Look, I don’t like sharing airspace with you any more than you like sharing with me, but how about we act like grown-ups and go with the best plan?”

He muttered something under his breath, then sighed heavily. “Okay. That’s not a bad point.”

A tense silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft lapping of waves against the cliffs below. Finally, Jason straightened.

“I’m turning in,” he announced, heading for the stairs. “Try not to overthink us into oblivion while I’m gone.”

Alex watched him disappear into the darkness of the upper level, then sank onto the oversized couch with a groan. “Smart move, Mendoza,” she chided herself. “Running off your only companion.”

But as annoying as Jason could be, she had to admit he wasn’t entirely wrong.

And then, with a jolt of clarity that left her both amused and dismayed, Alex realized: neither was she.

She leaned back, letting her head rest against the soft cushions. The realization settled over her like a heavy blanket—what they had here were two confirmed loners, each wrestling for control.

As her eyelids grew heavy, Alex’s last coherent thought was that this partnership might prove to be her greatest challenge yet.