Chapter 38

THIRTY-EIGHT

Hatch steadied the rifle. Through the scope, the crosshairs fixed on Reeves’ motionless body. Blood pooled beneath him, spreading out into the rain-soaked parking lot. The threat was gone. She let out a slow breath and stood, her muscles tight from the tension of the shot. As she rose, Bishop, still leaning on a nearby tree, gave her a long look.

“Hell of a shot,” he muttered, his voice rough but laced with approval. He wiped a hand over his face, as if trying to clear away the lingering effects of the dermal patch.

The silence after the gunshot weighed heavy, but not for long.

Bishop straightened, his eyes narrowing as he glanced back toward the bodies of the kill squad scattered around them. “I’m supposed to be dead, and as far as they know, you are, too.” He shifted his stance, still visibly worn from the aftereffects of the toxin. “And Thorne hasn’t checked in since they called for that clean slate order. General’s expecting an update.”

Hatch furrowed her brow. They had a short window before Delta 6 would start asking questions. If the General found out the kill squad had failed, they wouldn’t have time to escape.

“We need to buy ourselves some breathing room,” she said, more to herself than to Bishop.

Bishop looked to the ground, where Stone’s gear lay in a heap. He knelt down and picked up the comms set. “We can use this.” He adjusted the settings on the device, turning the earpiece over in his hands. “I’ll pose as Stone. Contact Thorne, tell them Hatch is neutralized, and we’re cleaning up.”

Hatch frowned but quickly saw the logic. “You’re sure that’ll hold?”

Bishop looked up, eyes sharp despite his weakened state. “It’ll hold long enough for us to disappear. But we need to make it look good.”

Without waiting for her response, Bishop adjusted the mic and clipped it to his jacket. His voice changed, shifting into Stone’s cold, commanding tone. “This is Stone. Hatch is down. No need for extraction. We’ll handle cleanup.”

“Nice work, Bishop. When you’re done playing assassin, maybe try your hand at ventriloquism. You’ve got the voice thing down.”

For a moment, there was only static. Hatch felt the pressure build in her chest, the uncertainty hanging in the air. Then, the reply came. “Copy that. Report back once all loose ends are tied. You’re on your own until then.”

Bishop cut the comms and stood. “That’ll buy us time.”

Hatch didn’t relax at that, her mind already working on the next part of the plan. They couldn’t rely on that lie holding forever.

“We still need to deal with the locals,” she said, reaching into her jacket for her encrypted phone. She dialed quickly, the familiar sound of Tracy’s voice cutting through the static.

“Glad to hear you’re alive. And Bishop?”

“He’s with me,” she said. “There’ll be time for explaining later. As far as Thorne knows, we’re both dead.”

“Nothing like dumping a burning bag of crap on my doorstep.”

“Need a favor.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“We’ve got to clean things up here a bit. Thorne’s little kill squad is down. I’m going to need you to run some interference with the local sheriff. Just long enough to clear my trail until I can set things right with Thorne.”

“Not sure I understand everything at play here.”

“Might be best you don’t. At least for the time being.” Hatch paused, knowing the position she was putting him in. “I know what I’m asking is a lot. And I wouldn’t be if there was any other way around it. Right now, I don’t think there is.”

“Tell me what you can, and I’ll do my part.”

Hatch gave a rapid-fire sequence of events, culminating with the shot she took to neutralize Reeves.

Tracy let out a low whistle. “This is a tall order.”

“I need forty-eight hours,” she said.

Before Tracy could respond, another voice joined the line, laced with sarcasm. Banyan. “We’ve got you covered.”

“That’s the plan.” Hatch eyed Bishop. “And by the way, that dermal patch really saved our asses here. You’re a miracle worker.”

“I’ll take my bow when you’re back here in one piece.”

Tracy’s voice returned, more serious now. “Alright, I’ll buy you the time you need. I’ll make arrangements. The General’s not going to sit still for long.”

“See you then.” Hatch ended the call.

She looked on as Bishop disassembled his sniper rifle. The tension of their previous standoff settled, but there was still an undercurrent of things left unsaid. As the last click of metal echoed, Bishop looked up, his eyes catching Hatch’s.

“I don’t normally make it a habit of talking about past actions. Not my way, but—” He cleared his throat. “A while back I was tasked to support a cleanup op. Target was the daughter of a former Talon operator. One of the original members. She’d been kicking the hornet's nest for a while, stirring things up.” He paused, watching for a reaction, but Hatch remained stone-faced.

“They sent a team. The team got wiped out, but not before she was killed. Or that’s what they said.” Bishop wiped his hand across his mouth, looking away. “Then I heard another rumor. She didn’t die. She survived and ended up becoming part of Talon herself.” He looked directly at her now. “Sound familiar?”

Hatch raised an eyebrow. Her response came dry, calm. “Vaguely.”

“You’re a strange duck.” Bishop shook his head. “So why join Talon? After all that?”

Hatch’s eyes drifted to the horizon, where the outline of Pinewood Falls was just barely visible through the haze of rain and fog. “You know the saying—keep your enemies closer.” She paused, turning back to Bishop. “Plus, I figured I’d pick up where my dad left off.”

“Following someone else’s footsteps can lead you off a cliff.”

“Yet I’m still walking.”

“Tough way to live, though.” Bishop hesitated, the tension returning to his face. “Tracy’s a good man, but there are things he’s not privy to.”

“What are you getting at?”

Bishop took a breath before responding. “Thorne gave the order. He called me off, said you’d been taken care of. Guess I’m not the only one who’s got experience playing dead?”

Hatch thought back to those desperate moments inside her family’s home, back in Colorado. It seemed like a lifetime ago. To the world, both she and Nighthawk died that night. Cruise had brought her back. He convinced her to take the leap. To join Talon, the same group who’d been responsible for her father’s death. The group who tried and failed to do the same to her. Now she stood at the crossroads once again.

“If it’s any consolation, I doubt Tracy ever knew. He probably did think it was over.”

“Whoever brought you onboard made a smart move. Working for them made it harder for him to finish you off.”

She thought of Cruise. Maybe he’d suspected it all along. Maybe that’s why he’d brought her onboard. Kept her close, the best way he could think of to keep her safe.

“Thorne’s no slouch,” Bishop continued. “He’s a tactician. Just needed to wait for the opportunity.”

“And he saw it here.”

“Genius, when you think about it. Well, evil genius, but genius all the same. I take out Sawyer. You take me out. Bring in a team to finish the job. And the slate is wiped clean. You, the casualty of war and I the patsy.”

The puzzle now made sense. Thorne had orchestrated everything, using Talon as both her shield and her downfall. She’d been a walking target for how long? Would it ever end?

Bishop’s voice broke the silence. “Now you know.”

Hatch stood there for a moment, processing. “Yeah. Now I know.”

“The real question is, what do you plan to do about it?”

“The thing I’m best at.”

They both stood in silence, the quiet of the forest returning as the weight of everything settled between them. Bishop’s tone shifted. “Look, I’m going off the grid for a while. Too exposed for the time being. Need to make sure the trail’s clear before I surface again.”

“Smart move. Stay off the radar until it’s safe.”

There was a brief pause before Bishop spoke again, more hesitant this time. “I’ve got one last favor to ask. I know I don’t deserve it, but it’s something I need.”

Hatch crossed her arms, listening.

“My sister lives in a small town in Texas—Riverton. Not much there but dust and oil fields.” His voice softened. “She’s got a daughter, my niece. Just turned ten.” He swallowed, the words heavier than before. “I love that kid more than anything. I can’t reach out to them. Not yet. Not ‘til it’s safe. But they need to know I’m alive. It’d kill her if they thought I was killed.”

Hatch’s face remained unreadable, but she understood the request. She’d been through this before, distancing herself from her niece and nephew to keep them safe. “You want me to tell them?”

Bishop pleaded with his eyes, but his words remained steady. “If you could. Just to let them know I’ll come back when it’s safe. They’re good people. They’re the best part of me.”

Hatch considered for a moment. Good people . No escaping the code. And without a trace of doubt, if the tables were turned, he would do the same for her.

She gave a slow nod. “I’ll do it.”

Relief flickered across Bishop’s face. “Riverton, Texas. Small place. You’ll find them easy enough.” He pulled a small writing pad from his pack and jotted down the address.

Hatch took it. A smudge of blood marked the corner of the paper. “I’ll make sure they know.”

“Thanks.” He finished packing up his gear, snapping the case shut before standing to face her.

Hatch’s expression softened just a fraction, and with a dry smile, she said, “Thanks for dying for me.”

Bishop chuckled, a real laugh this time. “Who knew death could be so liberating?”

They stood for a moment longer, the silence no longer uncomfortable. Then, with one last look, Bishop slung his bag over his shoulder and disappeared into the woods, his figure quickly swallowed by the trees.

Hatch watched him go, standing still for a moment, her thoughts turning back to what lay ahead. Her path was set to Coronado, and not to take orders. Now, Hatch was walking back into Thorne’s world with a plan of her own.

He wanted a clean slate. I’ll show him what that means.