Chapter 6

6

SARA

S ara’s fingers danced over the controls of the drone, her eyes glued to the screen displaying its live feed. The dim light of the safe house cast long shadows, but her focus was razor-sharp. The blip of movement on the security monitor had triggered every instinct she had, and she wasn’t about to ignore it.

The drone hummed softly as it zipped over the perimeter, the infrared camera revealing the faint outlines of trees, rocks, and the occasional nocturnal animal scurrying in the darkness.

“Come on, show me what you are,” she muttered, tilting the joystick to move the drone toward the fence line.

Bryan’s voice drifted over her shoulder, steady and calm. “Find anything yet?”

“Not yet,” Sara replied, her tone clipped. “Give me a minute.”

Bryan didn’t press, standing back but watching her closely. She could feel his presence like a weight, steadying and grounding, even as her nerves hummed with adrenaline.

The screen flickered, a faint blur of movement catching her eye. She adjusted the drone’s angle, zooming in on the source of the disturbance.

“Gotcha,” she murmured.

A large shape loomed in the shadows, moving erratically. The drone’s lights swept over it, illuminating the culprit.

An antelope.

Sara let out a sharp breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Well, that’s embarrassing.”

Bryan leaned closer, his breath warm against her cheek as he peered at the screen. “Is that… a deer?”

“Antelope,” Sara corrected, already guiding the drone back to its dock.

Bryan chuckled softly, the sound irritatingly warm. “You were ready to take on a cartel hit squad, and instead, it’s dinner on legs.”

Sara shot him a glare, though she couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at her lips. “Laugh it up, Doc. Next time, you can handle security.”

Bryan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, you’re the expert. I’m just here to admire your work.”

She rolled her eyes, powering down the drone and setting the controls aside. “Let’s just hope the next alert is another something with antlers.”

“Agreed,” Bryan said, his tone softening. “But I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious.”

Sara nodded, though the tension in her chest didn’t fully ease. Even a false alarm was a reminder of how precarious their situation was.

“Get some rest,” she said, brushing past him toward the door. “Tomorrow’s another day.”

The soft morning light filtered through the safe house windows as Sara sat at the small dining table, her laptop open in front of her. The faint aroma of coffee lingered in the air, but she barely noticed, her focus entirely on the encrypted files she’d received from a Cerberus contact overnight.

Bryan moved around the kitchen, humming quietly as he prepared breakfast. His presence was both a comfort and a distraction, but Sara forced herself to stay focused.

She scanned the documents, her sharp eyes catching a pattern that made her stomach tighten. A list of supply shipments. Travel routes. Personnel changes. All of it perfectly timed to correspond with cartel activity in the region.

“This doesn’t make sense,” she muttered under her breath.

“What doesn’t?” Bryan asked, setting a plate of toast and eggs beside her.

Sara leaned back, her fingers tapping against the table. “Someone’s feeding information to the cartel. Every time Doctors Without Borders makes a move, they know about it—down to the smallest detail.”

Bryan frowned, sitting across from her. “Are you sure? It could just be a coincidence.”

“It’s not,” Sara said firmly, turning the laptop to show him the files. “Look at the dates. The timing’s too precise.”

Bryan studied the screen, his jaw tightening. “If you’re right, then that means someone inside the organization is working with them.”

“Exactly,” Sara said, her tone grim. “And if they know we’re here…”

She didn’t finish the thought, but the implication hung heavy in the air.

Bryan exhaled sharply, his gaze meeting hers. “What’s our next move?”

“I’ve talked to the person who sent the file and updated it with what we know,” Sara said, already pulling out her phone. “They can cross-reference it with their intel and see if we can narrow down the leak. In the meantime, we keep our guard up.”

Bryan nodded, his expression unreadable. “And what about us?”

Sara hesitated, his question weighing heavily on her. “We stay put for now. The safe house is secure, and I’ve already adjusted the perimeter alarms.”

He reached across the table, his hand brushing hers briefly. “We’ll figure this out, Sara.”

The warmth in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, but she forced herself to focus. “We don’t have a choice.”

Bryan smiled faintly, though the tension in his eyes remained. “I’ll start packing supplies, just in case.”

Sara watched him move to the storage closet, her mind racing. The pieces were falling into place, but the picture they painted was far from clear.

And the question that loomed largest in her mind was one she couldn’t shake: How far did the betrayal go—and how much closer was the enemy?

Across the room, Bryan leaned against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed, his brow furrowed in thought. His usually calm demeanor was strained, his mind no doubt racing through the implications of what they’d discovered.

“This changes everything,” he said finally, his voice low but heavy with tension.

Sara stopped mid-step, turning to face him. “It does. And it puts everyone back at the camp in danger.”

Bryan’s jaw tightened. “They trusted me. They trusted us. And now?—”

“And now we make sure they’re safe,” Sara interrupted, her tone firm. She grabbed her phone from the table, already dialing Cerberus.

The line clicked, and a familiar voice answered. “Cerberus Ops, Miley speaking.”

“Miley, it’s Sara,” she said, keeping her voice steady despite the storm swirling inside her. “We’ve got a situation. Someone inside Doctors Without Borders is working with the cartel. I have intel that proves it.”

There was a brief pause, then Miley’s tone turned sharp. “I’ll get Damon and King on it right away.”

“I’m sending it now,” Sara said, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she forwarded the files. “But I need you to be discreet. If the mole catches wind that we’re onto them?—”

“They’ll bolt or retaliate,” Miley finished. “Understood. We’ll handle it. What about Bryan?”

Sara’s eyes flicked to him, standing in the kitchen, his expression dark and unreadable. “He’s safe for now, but this isn’t sustainable. The mole has to know we’ve moved him, and it’s only a matter of time before the cartel comes for him again.”

Miley’s voice softened slightly. “We’ll figure it out, Sara. You just focus on keeping him alive.”

The call ended, but the weight in Sara’s chest only grew heavier. She turned back to Bryan, who was watching her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

“What did Cerberus say?” he asked.

“They’re handling it,” she replied, though the words felt hollow.

Bryan stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “You’re tense,” he said softly.

“Of course I’m tense,” Sara snapped, immediately regretting the sharpness in her tone. She took a breath, her fingers pressing against her temples. “I’m sorry. This… it’s a lot.”

Bryan reached out, his hand brushing her arm. “You’re carrying too much.”

“I don’t have a choice,” she replied, pulling away slightly. “If I can’t keep my head straight, I can’t keep you safe.”

He didn’t let her retreat far. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence grounding and unyielding. “Sara, look at me.”

She hesitated, but his voice held a quiet command that she couldn’t ignore. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his.

“You’re spiraling,” Bryan said, his tone calm but firm. “Let me help you.”

“I don’t need?—”

“You do,” he interrupted, his voice steady. “You don’t have to do this alone. Let me anchor you.”

The sincerity in his eyes undid her defenses, and she nodded reluctantly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Sit,” he said, gesturing to the couch.

Sara complied, her movements slow and uncertain. Bryan knelt in front of her, his hands resting gently on her knees.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed.

She hesitated, but the warmth in his voice encouraged her. Slowly, she let her eyes flutter shut.

“Breathe with me,” Bryan said, his voice a low, soothing rumble. “In through your nose… out through your mouth.”

Sara followed his lead, her breaths shaky at first but gradually evening out as his words guided her.

“Feel your feet on the ground,” he continued, his hands steadying her. “Feel the weight of your body against the couch. You’re here. You’re safe.”

His voice wrapped around her like a cocoon, each word pulling her further from the chaos in her mind.

“Good,” he murmured. “Now, open your eyes.”

When she did, his gaze was waiting for her, steady and grounding. “You’re not alone, Sara,” he said softly. “I’m here. Whatever happens, we face it as a team.”

“You’re not trained…”

“I was a medic in some of the worst forward operating bases in the world. They made the camp here in Africa look like the Ritz. I can handle myself and a gun. And I can guard your six.”

She grinned. Her pulse thrummed, but it was something deeper—more significant—than anything she’d ever felt before… something that terrified and comforted her in equal measure.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Bryan stood, pulling her to her feet. “Come on,” he said, his tone lightening slightly. “We’ve got work to do.”

They moved to secure the safe house and prepare for whatever was coming, but in the back of her mind, the question lingered: Could they survive the storm they both knew was coming?

The late afternoon shone brightly on the porch of the safe house. Even though the sun was sinking down to the horizon, at this time of day, it looked as though it was at the same level as the porch itself. Sara paced its length, her movements sharp and restless. The steady crash of the waves below did little to calm the storm brewing inside her. Every instinct screamed that time was running out, that the safety they’d carved out here was hanging by a thread.

Her fingers brushed the holster at her hip, a reflexive check she’d repeated a dozen times already. The unease had taken root deep in her chest, gnawing at her with each passing hour.

Inside the house, Bryan sat at the small dining table, a map of the region spread out before him. His brow furrowed as he studied the terrain, his pen tapping rhythmically against the wood. He looked calm—too calm—and it only irritated Sara more.

“You’re awfully relaxed for someone with a target on his back,” she said, stopping just inside the doorway.

Bryan glanced up, his expression unreadable. “And you’re burning enough energy for both of us.”

“Someone has to,” Sara shot back, crossing her arms. “The cartel’s not just going to give up because we’ve gone off-grid. If anything, they’re getting closer.”

He set the pen down, leaning back in his chair. “You don’t know that.”

“I feel it,” Sara said, her voice sharp. “This is what I do, Bryan. I know when something’s off, and I’m telling you, they’re closing in.”

Bryan stood, his height forcing her to tilt her head slightly to meet his gaze. “And you think you’re not enough to keep me safe?”

The question struck a nerve, and Sara’s jaw tightened. “I worry that I can’t do it alone. My fear is that what I’m starting to feel for you may compromise my ability to keep you safe.”

“You’re not the only one, but I’m not as helpless as you may think,” Bryan said firmly, stepping closer. “You have to let me help.”

“This isn’t your world. You’re a doctor, Bryan, not a soldier.”

His expression didn’t waver, his dark eyes steady on hers. “I was a soldier before I was a doctor. Don’t forget that.”

Sara hesitated, her mind flashing back to the way he’d handled himself during the ambush. The precision of his movements, the calm in his demeanor—it was impossible to ignore. But this wasn’t just about skill; it was about the burden of responsibility, a burden she wasn’t sure he understood.

“I can’t let anything happen to you,” she said quietly, the admission slipping out before she could stop it.

Bryan’s features softened, but his tone remained steady. “And I can’t let you carry all of this on your own. We’re in this together, Sara. Whether you like it or not. As I understand it, no Dom worthy of a woman’s submission would let her bear the burden by herself.”

The conviction in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, but she fought to keep her composure. “You don’t understand how dangerous they are.”

“Then explain it to me,” he said, his voice low. “Help me understand so I can be part of the solution instead of just the problem.”

The sincerity in his words threw her off balance. She wasn’t used to this—not the vulnerability he offered, not the partnership he demanded. For a moment, she considered pushing him away again, shutting him out to protect him. But the look in his eyes stopped her.

He wasn’t asking for permission. He was staking his claim.

“Fine,” she said finally, her tone reluctant. “If you’re serious about this, we need a plan. A real one.”

Bryan nodded, gesturing to the map. “I’ve been working on it. There’s a secondary escape route along the coast. If we have to move fast, it’s the best option.”

Sara moved closer, her eyes scanning the map. He’d marked potential choke points, safe zones, and fallback positions. It was solid work—better than she’d expected.

“When did you put this together?” she asked, her voice softer now.

“While you were pacing,” Bryan replied with a faint smile. “Figured one of us should be productive.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. “Not bad, Doc.”

Bryan’s smile widened slightly. “High praise from you.”

The moment of levity was short-lived. A sudden rustle outside the window snapped them both to attention. Sara’s hand went to her gun as she moved toward the sound, her pulse quickening.

Bryan was at her side in an instant, his own weapon drawn. Together, they eased the door open, stepping onto the porch in practiced silence.

The wind whipped through the tall grasses, carrying the faintest hint of something not of the natural world—oil, gunpowder, danger.

Sara crouched low, her eyes scanning the open field. “They must have gotten around the perimeter alarm. Do you see anything?” she whispered.

Bryan shook his head, his grip on his weapon steady. “No, but something’s out there.”

A sudden crack of a branch made them both spin toward the sound, their weapons trained on the shadows. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Then came the unmistakable glint of a scope reflecting in the fading sunlight.

“Down!” Sara shouted, tackling Bryan just as the gunshot rang out. The bullet splintered the wooden railing where he’d been standing moments before.

They hit the ground hard, Bryan’s arms wrapping around her instinctively as they rolled behind cover. Her heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline surging through her veins.

“Sniper,” she hissed, her mind racing. “We need to move.”

Bryan nodded, his voice calm but firm. “Lead the way.”

Sara took a breath, forcing herself to focus. The game had changed, and now it was survival. But as they moved through the shadows, Bryan close at her back, one thought burned bright in her mind: They were out of time.

And the enemy wasn’t going to wait for them to find their footing.