Chapter 13

13

Cody and Graham were still washing up when Paige followed Tai toward the front door.

A gust of wind kicked up a miniature dust devil, swirling across the weathered porch as she pushed open the creaky screen door. She stepped out, wincing as the ancient floorboards protested beneath her feet with all the subtlety of an arthritic giant. Before her, the dusty streets of the old town unfurled like a faded postcard from the Wild West. She half expected to see a tumbleweed roll by, closely followed by a pair of squinting gunslingers, their spurs chiming a metallic melody with each bowlegged step.

The sun slid toward the jagged horizon, turning the air into a shimmering haze. She squinted, her eyes adjusting to the harsh light. A tumbleweed rolled lazily across the street, as if on cue.

"I keep waiting for Clint Eastwood to show up." Tai chuckled.

Paige nodded, her mind elsewhere. The meal had ended with Graham conscripting Cody for KP duty, but her thoughts kept circling back to the tracker's deactivation. Relief washed over her again as she remembered Cody's unharmed state after the zapping. But a new worry gnawed at her gut.

What would he do now?

By destroying the tracker, they'd effectively set him free. He might take off, disappear into the sunset like one of those old western heroes. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Kate sidled up to her. "You look like you're trying to solve world hunger with the power of your mind."

"Just wondering if we've made a huge mistake."

"You mean Cody? I believe he'll keep his word."

Paige turned to her friend, grateful for Kate's unwavering optimism. But doubt still lingered, a persistent shadow in her mind.

Kate's eyes narrowed, a determined glint sparking in their depths. "And if he doesn't keep his word to help us find Jason, I'll hunt him down myself."

"I almost feel sorry for him if it comes to that."

"Yeah. Don't." Kate patted her shoulder and headed toward Fenn.

Paige leaned against the porch railing, its peeling paint rough beneath her palms. Her mind churned like a temperamental washing machine, tossing her thoughts into a dizzying spin cycle of trust and doubt.

On one side, there was the Cody she'd known in college—earnest, kind, with eyes that crinkled when he laughed. The guy who'd stayed up all night helping her cram for tests, fueled by nothing but terrible coffee and shared determination.

But then there was the other Cody—the one who'd refused to listen to her protestations of innocence and then vanished the day after graduation without a trace. The man who'd spent years working for the very organization they were fighting against. If he was telling the truth, he'd been trapped into working for the Consortium exactly the way they had.

No. Not exactly.

They'd never known until the very end that their missions were handed down from the cabal. Cody, apparently, had known almost from the start.

And she only had his word that he'd worked the entire time to defeat them.

She rubbed her forehead. There was literally no one worse at divining truth from lies than her.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Bridger's voice cut through her internal debate.

Paige sighed, her breath stirring a small dust devil on the porch. "Just trying to figure out if trusting Cody is brilliant or spectacularly stupid."

"Ah, the age-old ‘trust the ex-enemy' dilemma. A classic."

She snorted, appreciating Bridger's attempt at levity. "It's just ... he seems sincere. But then again, he seemed sincere before he threw me to the lions and disappeared back in college."

Bridger scanned the horizon. "Trust is a tricky thing. It's like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands."

"Great. So I'm basically fumbling around in a fog?"

"More like navigating a minefield while blindfolded," Bridger chuckled. "But here's the thing—sometimes you have to take a leap of faith. The question is, are you willing to risk the fall?"

Paige mulled over his words. Trust Cody and potentially gain a valuable ally, or keep her guard up and possibly push away someone who genuinely wants to help them take down the Consortium, and find Jason?

As she stood there, the warm desert wind whispering secrets she couldn't quite catch, Paige realized that this wasn't just about the mission. It was about her heart, still bruised from old wounds, daring to hope again.

"I guess," she said finally, a wry smile tugging at her lips, "I'll have to decide if I'm in the mood for a trust fall or a face plant."

Bridger clapped her on the shoulder, his touch reassuring. "Nothing like a little emotional Russian roulette to spice up a mission."

Bridger leaned against a sun-bleached post, his face thoughtful. "For what it's worth, I'm inclined to believe Lassiter. His intel aligns with what we've gathered."

From the other end of the porch, Tai snorted, the sound reminiscent of a disgruntled bull. "Yeah, and I'm inclined to believe in the tooth fairy. Doesn't make her real."

"Lassiter's been neck-deep in Consortium filth for years," Mason growled, his scowl deepening the cracks in his weather-beaten face. "Could be feeding us a crock of horse manure."

Kate and Fenn exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Kate shrugged, her voice measured. "It's a risk, sure. But what if he's telling the truth?"

Fenn nodded, adding, "We can't afford to ignore potential intel, even if the source is ... questionable."

Paige listened to the back-and-forth, her mind whirring like an overclocked computer. The skepticism was valid, but something in her gut—a feeling she couldn't quite shake—whispered that Cody might be on the level.

She opened her mouth to voice her thoughts, but before she could speak, a shrill ring cut through the air. Bridger fished the satellite phone from his pocket, his eyebrows shooting up as he checked the display.

"It's Jason," he announced, pressing the speaker button. The team fell silent, collective breath held as static crackled through the speaker.

"Bridger?" Jason's voice, tinny and distant, filled the air. "You there?"

Paige's heart leapt into her throat. After days of radio silence, hearing Jason's voice was like a gulp of cool water in the desert. She leaned in, straining to catch every word as the conversation that could change everything began to unfold.

The team huddled around the phone like moths to a flame, their faces bathed in the eerie glow of the screen. Jason's deep voice sounded tinny through the speaker, each word a lifeline in the static sea. "Guys, the intel you gave me on Lassiter checks out. One of my sources overheard Consortium chatter confirming that he's gone rogue."

Paige caught Bridger's eye, saw her own surprise mirrored there.

Jason continued, his voice tight with urgency. "Listen, intel aside, we can't be sure whose side Lassiter's playing for. Watch your backs."

Suddenly, a cacophony of noise burst through the speaker—shouts, crashes, the unmistakable sound of pursuit. Jason's next words came in ragged bursts. "Gotta go. Don't come after me. Too dangerous. Don't know who to trust."

Tai leaned in, his face a mask of concern. "Jason, man, we can help?—"

"No!" Jason's shout was sharp enough to make them all flinch. "I kicked this hornet's nest. It's my mess to clean up."

The team erupted in protests, their voices overlapping in a symphony of concern. But Jason's next words silenced them all.

"I'm sorry. I have to do this alone. Stay safe. And ... goodbye."

The line went dead with a finality that sent chills down Paige's spine.

For a moment, the only sound was the creaking of the old porch and their collective, stunned breathing. Then, as one, they turned towards the house where Cody waited.

They moved inside. The stakes had just skyrocketed from personal to global, from her heart to lives on the line.

She glanced at Cody through the window, his profile outlined by the warm light inside. Trust him, and potentially save Jason, the team, maybe even the world. Doubt him, and risk losing everything.

As her hand touched the doorknob, cool metal against her palm, Paige took a deep breath. She was walking into a minefield blindfolded, with the lives of everyone she cared about hanging in the balance.

"Well," she muttered to herself, twisting the knob, "no pressure or anything."