Chapter 16

16

Jason stood at the window, his reflection a ghost in the fog-shrouded glass. He’d slept surprisingly well, lulled by the high-tech security features and the rhythmic crash of waves. But this morning, unease coiled in his gut.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, wincing as the movement pulled at his side. Lifting his shirt, he examined the neat row of stitches along his ribs. He’d have to be careful not to tear them open. The bullet graze was healing well after three days, but the area was still tender and bruised.

Lowering his shirt, he sighed. Bridger and the rest of the team would be chomping at the bit to jump in, guns blazing. But with Jane on the verge of delivering twins, Jason needed them to stay put, to keep her safe. Which left him here, squaring off against a shadowy organization with more resources than the GDP of numerous countries.

“One hand tied behind my back,” he muttered, tension knotting his shoulders.

The soft pad of bare feet on hardwood pulled him from his brooding. Alex shuffled into the living room, dark hair tousled from sleep, clutching a steaming mug of coffee like a lifeline.

“Morning, sunshine,” he quipped, forcing a lightness he didn’t feel.

Her mock glare didn’t quite hide the amusement in her eyes, and he felt a surprising twinge of ... something. Comfort? Camaraderie?

“So, what’s our game plan?” she asked, curling up on the couch.

Keep people safe. That was about all he had. He was a protector, always had been, but this ... this felt like trying to hold back the tide with his bare hands.

“First things first,” he said, pushing aside his doubts. He pointed at the kitchen. “I need a refill. Back in a sec.”

Jason returned from the kitchen, fresh coffee in hand, and settled into an armchair across from Alex. He took a thoughtful sip before speaking.

“Before we dive into planning a potentially dangerous op, I think we should get to know each other’s backgrounds a bit better. It’ll help us work together more effectively.”

Alex nodded, her fingers tapping against her mug. “Makes sense. What do you want to know about RAVEN?”

Jason shook his head. “Actually, I’m more interested in your time with the Agency. That’s where you honed your field skills, right?”

Surprise flickered across her face before she composed herself. “Fair point. Well, I spent five years with the CIA, mostly in Eastern Europe and the Middle East. My specialty was deep cover operations—infiltration, asset recruitment, intel gathering.”

She paused, taking a sip of coffee. “I’ve got experience in surveillance, counter-surveillance, and covert communications. Decent hand-to-hand combat skills, though I prefer to avoid direct confrontation when possible. I’m proficient with most small arms, but my real strength is in improvisation and adaptability.”

Jason listened intently, mentally cataloging her skills. His gaze drifted to the scar on her inner arm, visible where her sleeve had ridden up.

“And you left with a souvenir,” he observed, nodding towards the mark.

“Yup,” Alex replied, her tone clipped.

There was clearly a lot of baggage behind that wound, but now wasn’t the time to pry.

Alex set down her mug. “Your turn. Tell me about BlackOut Squadron.”

Jason’s jaw tightened involuntarily, but as he met her gaze, he was surprised to find genuine curiosity there. No judgment. No ulterior motive. Just ... interest.

“It was supposed to be the elite of the elite,” he began, sinking deeper into the armchair. “Ten years ago, they recruited us—told us we’d be answering only to a deep, secret-level NSA sub-group.”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, as he delved into BlackOut Squadron’s sordid history. “Turns out, after the first couple years, we were nothing but glorified hitmen for the Consortium,” he said, bitterness seeping into his voice.

Alex’s eyebrows shot up, her body unconsciously mirroring his posture. “The Consortium? I thought this Seven-Five group was the one after you.”

“Same evil billionaire overlords. New branding. Seven-Five’s the next evolution of the Consortium. Or should I say devolution?”

That drew a snort of laughter.

He nodded, noticing how she hung on his every word, her green eyes wide with a mix of shock and sympathy. “Once we started questioning the chain of command, they ‘retired’ the entire team. Forcibly.”

Alex’s hand twitched, as if she wanted to reach out to him. The gesture, small as it was, didn’t go unnoticed. Jason felt an unexpected warmth bloom in his chest.

“That’s awful. To believe you were serving our country when … I’m so sorry,” she murmured, her voice soft and sincere.

He shrugged, trying to play it off, but her genuine concern was disarming. “It is what it is. We’ve moved on, started Redemption Inc. Trying to balance the scales, I guess.”

“And blow Seven-Five apart,” she added.

He took a long sip of java, eyeing her over the top of his mug. “And that.”

Jason swallowed, acutely aware of the diminishing space between them. He could smell her shampoo, a light, citrusy scent that was unexpectedly intoxicating. “This new Seven-Five iteration is deeper in talent, and way more ruthless.”

As he finished speaking, he realized he’d been so caught up in Alex’s reactions—the furrow of her brow, the way she bit her lower lip in concentration—that he’d shared more than he’d intended. He felt exposed, vulnerable. But strangely, he didn’t mind as much as he would have thought. There was something about Alex that made him want to let his guard down, just a little.

He liked her.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. And judging by the way she was looking at him, all soft eyes and understanding smile, the feeling might be mutual.

The air between them suddenly felt charged, crackling with an intensity that made his skin prickle. He cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair to put some distance between them.

Alex seemed to sense the shift, her posture stiffening as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve, uh, heard of the Consortium before,” she said, her voice losing its earlier warmth. “Helped disappear a few people running from them. But I never had a personal stake in the fight.”

Jason nodded, grateful for the return to more familiar territory. “And now?”

Alex’s eyes flashed, a steely determination replacing the earlier softness. “Highly personal. Whether this Consortium or Seven-Five or whatever came after me originally or not, they’ve messed with my family. And RAVEN. They’re going down.”

The vehemence in her voice matched his own. He found himself admiring her strength of will, the fiery spirit that burned beneath her cool exterior. She’d be a dangerous opponent.

Like him.

Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. They were two predators circling each other, wary but intrigued.

He broke the tension, standing abruptly. “So, we stay put and dig deeper?”

Alex nodded, visibly relieved to be back on solid ground. “Starting with Gravy’s father. If there’s a connection to Seven-Five, we’ll find it.”

As they moved to their respective workstations, Jason couldn’t help but steal glances at Alex. Her face was a mask of concentration. All business now. But he couldn’t shake the memory of her earlier warmth, the way she’d looked at him with understanding and something more.

He turned to his own laptop, pushing those thoughts aside. They had work to do. But a small part of him, a part he wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge, hoped that once this was all over, they might have a chance to explore these resonating frequencies.