Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

LUCAS

Ice cut through my veins.

By the time we'd reached the old water station, it had been rendered impossible to enter. Flames had engulfed the building. Within ten minutes, the roof at the front of the building had caved in, leaving me pacing, tugging at the short strands of my hair, while searching for any signs of Valeria and Ethan.

That the fire crew indicated a while later that the building was empty came as a relief. That panic didn't truly fade, though. How could it when it meant almost two hours had passed since their disappearance?

That was two hours where they could have reached any number of locations.

But it was Durrant's calm, almost detached voice that caused the shards of ice.

"What do you mean you can't pull anyone in to help?"

For years I'd given my all, my everything, even gone so far as to isolate myself from my daughter, mostly in the name of protecting my country.

"I'll do what I can, Matt. You know I will. But with Hornell not at the location in Melbourne, it's put us on high alert. We have the Sydney and Canberra teams processing everything we gathered and the arrests we made. But that's opened up a whole new network of intel. We need to act now to shut everything down and keep on Hornell's trail. We're so close and have him on the run."

The vein in my neck pulsed, my jaw tight, my molars grinding.

"We've been able to take down the alerts for your arrests. The team is in the clear." Sympathy crept into her voice, but I wasn't interested.

I needed my daughter and Ethan now. Needed their location. Needed to get them out of whatever nightmare they'd been thrown into.

"And what if this is Hornell?" I argued, but I knew it would fall on deaf ears.

The only lead we had indicated that the team who'd infiltrated were not affiliated with Hornell. The confirmation had been a blow as much as it was a relief. If it weren't for the fact that I'd discovered the information, following the trail that took me to the ShadowNet and a job bid for a grab-and-go, which was definitely not Hornell's style, I would have continued to doubt the validity.

But I couldn't. We both knew it.

That didn't help my situation here.

"Dharrun's working with local agents on those individuals they took into custody at the server's location," Durrant said unnecessarily.

I knew the facts. Knew everyone's roles.

Once we'd subdued the assailants in the SUVs, Valeria had already left the scene on Alinta's orders. Misplaced relief had flooded me when I'd watched her drive away, my gratitude following, since Alinta had gotten Valeria out of there. We'd all expected to have to run, to take cover. Everyone except for Tarka, who'd had a team on standby.

Something I would have been pissed about since I hadn't known about it. Considering they'd arrived in the nick of time, I didn't have it in me to be frustrated at being left in the dark.

They'd raced in, helping us to take down those on Hornell's payroll. Not everyone had been killed, but I wished they had. It would have at least freed up Dharrun and Alinta.

"You have Tarka. He's agreed to help, right?" Durrant said, cutting through my thoughts.

I did, thankfully.

He had no jurisdiction, considering he was no longer an agent, and he'd already said he and his men would assist, but that wasn't the point. Sure, Ethan didn't work for the SICB either. He wasn't even Australian. But he had gone above and beyond to help us.

Then there was my daughter, who still worked for the government, yet Durrant couldn't offer anything?

My head swirled with frustration, building and expanding, threatening to overwhelm and incapacitate if I wasn't careful.

"Matt, I'm sorry. As soon as I can free up Kent, she's yours."

"Fine." I cut the call, unable to deal with pleasantries. Shoving my phone into my pocket, I concentrated on my heartbeat, focussed on slowing it down and pulling myself together. Both Valeria and Ethan needed me on my game. Not a chance I could let them down.

With one last breath, I squared my shoulders and turned, heading towards the two waiting SUVs Tarka's men had saved our arses in. Tarka stopped talking, his gaze on me as soon as I stepped close. At the unasked question in his eyes, I shook my head.

He nodded once, turned to a wolf shifter called Hannah, and instructed, "We're going to head out now and meet at the airport base. You go ahead and set up. We'll be five minutes behind."

With a nod, she gathered a couple of bags before she and three members of their team jumped into one of the SUVs, leaving the other for me and Tarka.

"Airport?" I asked immediately. Did that mean he had some new information?

The shift was so minute, I suspected many would miss it. But not only did I know Tarka well, my training went above and beyond tech development.

"What is it?" I pressed.

"Jump in. We're going to need some privacy."

If my heart could hammer as fast, it would be beating at the speed of a bullet train. My stomach hollowed as I quickly got into the passenger seat, turning expectantly towards Tarka when he entered and switched on the engine.

"Belt up." He pulled away from the kerb, heading in the same direction as his team.

Holding back my building frustration, I did so, not wanting any more delays on whatever he was about to lay on me.

"One of our guys is a tech whizz. I'd say a few more years and he'll be on your level."

Understanding the implication, I nodded. He needed me to trust the intel and the source. "Go on."

He flicked me a glance; this time, his expression told me exactly what he was feeling. Concern. Anguish. Sympathy.

Unable to control my fear, "Is it Valeria?" spilled out. I needed to know. I couldn't handle the potentially earth-shattering news being drawn out any further.

"As far as we know, she's okay. We've no reason to believe otherwise."

I rubbed at my chest, absorbing his words, welcoming the relief even if it was likely to be short-lived. "So, what is it? What's going on?"

He pulled onto the motorway, sparing me a glance before saying, "We're waiting for a location, but we think we're close to a lead."

This was good. Better than I hoped for without my own team here to assist.

"Tell me about Maya's death."

I froze, my mind whiting out in surprise. Maya? Struggling to form words as my brain tried to put together what he was really asking, I simply gaped, brows drawn low in a frown.

When I didn't respond, he took a beat, gaze roaming my face. With a slow, heavy exhale, Tarka shook his head. "Matt, we think Maya's alive."

I latched on to the door, my stomach churning, my mind buzzing. I scrambled for the handle, not making sense of Tarka's panicked words or exactly what I was doing.

I needed to get out. Needed air.

Needed to be out of this car before I threw up.

I jolted in my seat as the car jerked to a stop. Not hesitating, I scrambled for the door and practically fell out. Bent double, I heaved as white flecks danced in my vision, blurring my view. I heaved again, nothing but bile creeping its way up my throat.

Blood pounded in my ears. Despite the noise, my thoughts bled through thick and fast.

Impossible. She can't be. How? No, it can't be true.

I shook my head, eyes burning, sweat beading on my skin.

She was dead. She had to be. The thought of her still being alive, sharing the same space as me, breathing the same air?—

Valeria.

"Fuck, Valeria." I bolted upright and turned in panic, smacking into Tarka's broad chest.

His large hands gripped my shoulders, his voice soothing as he said, "If Valeria is with Maya, she'll be okay."

I shook my head, finally meeting his gaze. "She won't be. This is Maya we're talking about."

When he winced, I just knew he was remembering, knew he recalled the moment when he realised the true extent of Maya's deception… how toxic and damn evil she was.

My external scars may have healed, but he'd been the one to come to my rescue. He'd witnessed the fallout, the battle, my recovery, how I'd protected Valeria.

"Fuck." The word punched out of him, and as quickly as he'd originally held on to me, he released me, racing back to the door of the vehicle.

I followed suit. The need to get to Valeria and protect her overtook my instinct to hide, to cower. I loathed the reaction, despised it, and had hoped to never feel that way again.

And Ethan. I closed my eyes as Tarka pulled out into traffic, ignoring the horns and screech of brakes. If Maya knew Ethan meant something to me, who knew what she'd do.

The woman couldn't be trusted.

"How sure are you?" I finally asked. Information, the facts, getting as much as possible would help me keep my sanity. With intel, I could plan and strategize. That would be the only way to get through this.

"I know it's not what you want to hear, but let us get to the airport, and we should have some answers soon."

"So fairly fucking sure, then?" I snapped, then immediately clamped my mouth shut and ran a hand over my face. "Sorry." Anxiety pulled on the threads of my control.

Ignoring my outburst, he asked, "Maya's death. Tell me about it."

I glanced his way. "You know the official report." There was nothing to add to it.

He was one of the few who'd had clearance, and only because of his relationship with me and that he'd stumbled on the fallout.

He bobbed his head. "Maya Blackthorn, Supernatural Intelligence Agency covert operative for twenty-nine years. Six months before her reported death—an explosion during a joint force takedown in Darwin—intel indicated she was a double agent working for the North Koreans."

I glanced out the window, recalling the moment I'd discovered not only that she was an SIA operative and not a curator, but that she was also a spy—though not for Australia.

A dull ache formed in my chest. The humiliation, the fear, the anger, every emotion, then add in the years of accepting her narcissistic behaviour, her gaslighting—it had almost been too much. Only Valeria had kept me together—the need to keep her safe and protect her from the truth was the driving force to doing whatever it took to take Maya down.

Had my heart broken?

Maybe a fraction of it. But it had been a long time since I'd loved Maya.

Voice strained, Tarka continued, "It was three months into the active investigation into Maya when I was read in. That was the night I found you beaten within an inch of your life."

I swallowed hard and risked a glance. He was a good friend, the best. Shame hit me that it had been so long since we'd seen each other.

"Don't look at me like that."

My brows shot high. "Like what?"

"I understand why you kept your distance."

I winced. "That doesn't make it okay."

"It does."

I wasn't sure I agreed, but I appreciated he understood. Just seeing him, despite all he'd done to save me and help protect Valeria, brought back the years of mental abuse I'd suffered as well as the memories of the attack Maya orchestrated and bore witness to once she discovered I knew her real identity and the extent of her deception.

That had been three months before the SICB and SIA had located her and obliterated the weapons lab she'd been stowed away in. Given the heat and the destruction, the remains had been impossible to identify.

I had witnessed her entering the building with my own two eyes, as had the task force. There'd also been her Tungsten ring discovered in the rubble. A family heirloom, she'd told me. Once we had access to the damaged ring, we discovered its more nefarious function.

The ring wasn't just a piece of jewellery; it was a deadly weapon in itself—a highly advanced technological device. Its function was to siphon the vital signs and biometric data of whomever she pressed it against.

I remembered the shock we felt when we realised its true purpose. Maya had been using it to gather intelligence on the agents in the SIA and SICB, as well as other government officials, exploiting their vulnerabilities and weaknesses while leaving a trail of death and destruction in her wake.

It was the latter that had been all too easy to discover once we'd started digging.

Even now, recalling the discovery sent shivers down my spine. It was a reminder of how deeply Maya had been involved in the sinister world of espionage and the danger she had posed to everyone around her.

"You doing okay?"

I nodded, trying not to wallow in the guilt that weighed me down when I thought about Maya.

Rationally—and with therapy—I knew her ability to manipulate was out of my control. For hours, days, and weeks, I'd berated myself, certain that if I'd left at the first red flag—the first time she'd lashed out with her tongue, threatened to take Valeria away from me—the fallout wouldn't have been so awful. She'd rendered me weak, incapacitated, and incapable. Made me believe I couldn't do my job—not without running things by her first.

Then there was Valeria. The hot and cold Maya blew towards her—something I'd fiercely tried to protect my daughter from.

"I will be when we have Valeria and Ethan," I finally replied.

We reached the secure gate for the private hangar. After passing through security, Tarka drove towards one of the plane hangars, casting me a brief look before asking, "You and Ethan. Am I right in thinking there's something beyond professional between you?"

What I wanted to do was close my eyes, sag into my chair, and wave a magic wand to make all this go away. Instead, a question about Ethan and me had been thrown my way, one I wasn't sure how to answer.

We'd known each other for a little over a week. That was barely a breath in my long life. But he was the first person since Maya that I'd let in—both emotionally and sexually. Why I trusted him, I hadn't pulled apart fully. But I did.

And after years of being lied to and manipulated, that I did trust him was a miracle in itself.

"Yes." My reply was short and to the point. I couldn't explain beyond that.

"Okay." We pulled up inside the hangar, the late-morning sun cutting off abruptly. "When can you get access to your team?"

Technically Tarka should know nothing about them, considering our covert credentials. The moment I realised Valeria was missing, the function of my team had been the first thing I'd divulged.

He needed all the facts to know what he could be dealing with.

Though if this was all Maya, then it was absolutely personal.

"I'm not sure. Durrant insisted they continue the mission to locate Hornell." Frustration twisted my gut. I wanted that too. Needed Hornell put away. But Kent and my team, Callen… they were family.

"Do they know about Maya?"

The question was a smack in the face and a sneer at my thoughts of "family," considering only Kent knew about Valeria's existence.

"No."

Unclipping his belt, he angled towards me. "Maybe it's time you started letting people in."

I didn't have it in me to laugh, but how I wanted to do so, scoff off my struggle to do just that.

Then why had I let Ethan in? Twelve hours ago, I could have tried fooling myself by blaming our recklessness on the impermanence of our connection, but something more was there.

My team had my back. Always. But opening up fully would reveal the mess and chaos of my world. That would mean I'd have to deal with it… eventually. And letting them in, sharing my burdens, meant I'd leave myself vulnerable. Staying in control and relying on myself kept me safe and busy and stopped me from spiralling.

My throat thickened at the very thought. But what other choice did I have?

I settled on "Maybe."

Nodding his acceptance, Tarka exited the car. I was hot on his heels.

There might have been a whirlwind of unknown, but this I could handle. The alternative was not worth considering.

The slam of the car doors echoed around the large hangar. I took it all in as I headed towards where Tarka's crew had set up a small but impressive workstation.

The hangar was expansive, with high ceilings and walls lined with various tools and equipment neatly organised on racks. The faint scent of aviation fuel mixed with the metallic tang of machinery tickled my nose, while fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a bright glow over the space.

At the centre of the hangar sat a sleek private jet, its polished exterior gleaming under the lights. My eyes widened. Just how successful was Tarka? The man had been keeping secrets.

Tarka's crew moved with precision around the plane, loading supplies and checking equipment. Two members were focused intently on computer screens, likely gathering and analysing data, while another member coordinated over a headset, speaking in terse, efficient tones.

The workstation they had set up nearby was equipped with monitors displaying various surveillance feeds and maps. Papers were spread over a table. I stepped closer, targeting the files, and gathered them up. Reading through every piece of information even as I walked, my pulse jumped. The papers detailed intel regarding the abduction of my daughter and Ethan, the man who had become a thorn in my side and left his mark on my heart.

"Where did this flight go?" I picked up the papers that outlined an uncharted flight. How they got the details was neither here nor there. "Do you have information on who was on board?"

Looking briefly at Tarka, Hannah waited for a barely perceptible nod before turning to me and handing me printouts. "These were taken a little over two hours ago. These are from satellite footage over at the Traveston pad."

Dread sat heavily in the pit of my stomach. Looking at this would mean confirmation. Needing a second to prepare myself, I asked, "A helipad close by?"

"Yeah, about fifteen klicks from the warehouse you were targeting."

Surprise had my brows shooting high, and I angled a look at Tarka. With folded arms, the man didn't look the least bit concerned he was sharing illegally obtained footage from satellites he definitely shouldn't have access to. He quirked his brow, and one side of his mouth lifted high.

I shook my head, his arrogance and I-don't-give-a-shit attitude drawing a snort out of me. If not following the law helped me find Valeria and Ethan, I didn't give a damn. It was funny how that worked out. My moral high ground would be completely eviscerated by the time this was over.

Perhaps I should be more concerned about that than I was.

No longer allowing the distraction to pull me from the image, I took a look.

The first photo showed Ethan, hog-tied and his head lolling to the side. Two large men appeared to be about to put him in the helicopter. A Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk. Scrunching my brow, I glanced at Tarka. "Do you know of any UH-60s in Australia? I thought we only had S-70A-9s and MH-60Rs."

A grin pulled his lips high, excitement sparking in his eyes. "And that is how we're going to track the bastards."

Hope bloomed in my chest, but it quickly froze when I looked at the second photo.

Valeria .

Anger surged in its place. My daughter appeared unconscious and was also bound at her wrists and ankles. She was thrown over a man's shoulder, the frame capturing Valeria being relocated to the helicopter.

"How close are we to finding their location?"

"Maybe thirty minutes," Hannah responded.

I closed my eyes. That was too long. They were already hours ahead.

"I need you to take a look at this." Tarka's tone, calm and gruff, pulled at me.

When I opened my eyes, he indicated one of the screens and tugged out the chair in front of it. I sat willingly, appreciating the familiarity of being at a computer. Here I felt in control. "What do you need?"

I peered out at the skyline, taking in the cityscape of Melbourne emerging through the dense rain clouds. The towering skyscrapers pierced the misty shroud, their silhouettes softened by the steady drizzle. The Yarra River wound its way through the city, its surface rippling under the weight of the downpour.

As we descended lower, the streets below glistened with rain, traffic moving steadily despite the wet conditions. Meanwhile, I held myself tightly, refusing to tap my foot. Three more minutes and we'd be on the tarmac of the small private airstrip. Three more minutes and we'd be heading north out of the city, each kilometre we travelled taking me closer to Valeria and Ethan.

The rain-slicked windows distorted the view, giving the city an almost surreal quality, but even through the dreariness, the plane descended smoothly. I gripped the armrests, barely listening to the conversation between Tarka and Liam. All I needed was to be off the plane and in the car.

Tarka's "No one's left the site" grabbed my attention. With his gaze on me, he offered an up-nod as I managed a relieved smile.

There were seventy kilometres between me and my girl, and with eyes in the sky, Tarka remained confident that was still the case. Having that confirmation helped the final couple of minutes pass by.

It helped to not think about the unknown. There'd been no contact from Maya. No threats or ransom notes. No demands.

One thing we were all now certain of was that Maya was responsible. That knowledge should have had me calling Durrant immediately, yet I hadn't. Tarka and I had a plan. Durrant coming in now, getting the SIA involved, would hinder that. Their priority would undoubtedly be capturing Maya or possibly making a second attempt at wiping her off the face of the earth.

Not a chance I'd put Valeria or Ethan at risk like that.

As soon as the wheels were down, we were up and grabbing our gear, ready to dive out of the plane and jump into the waiting cars.

Tarka sidled up to me, his voice taking on a friendly lilt. "You know, when all this is over, there's always room for you and whoever you trust on the team."

I angled a glance his way.

"It has its perks, working in security."

A small smile pulled at my lips. "It does appear lucrative." I arched my brow. "I always figured you'd find your feet when you jumped ship."

"Damn straight." He chuckled, his large hand clamping on my shoulder and squeezing lightly. My gut clenched at the gesture, as it reminded me of Ethan. "But in all seriousness, think about it."

I studied his expression as the engines powered down. "I'll think about it." I just didn't know how I felt about the possibility of leaving the SICB. Just the thought of the break in my routine, not having so much to focus on that would keep me distracted, put me on the cusp of a cold sweat breaking out.

The single cabin crew aboard the plane opened the door, and the stairs descended. This really was a fancy-arse plane. Sure, I'd made a tidy sum over the years with my tech and could likely afford maybe a helo, but something as ostentatious as this? I suspected not.

"Head towards hangar D," Tarka instructed as we exited, the drizzle quickly coating our faces and shoulders. "Let's get loaded up fast, and we'll head out. No pit stops."

Good, this was all good.

With a bag in each hand, I focussed forwards and on the sign for hangar D. Voices rippled around the metal hangar. With the car engines running, it was difficult to pick up individual words, let alone distinct voices.

Five SUVs waited. Seven of us had arrived from Brisbane, and Tarka had organised a unit to meet us here. I rounded the first vehicle, stopping dead in my tracks. Kent, her arms folded and looking pissed at whatever Callen was laughing at, leaned against the black Jeep. Her gaze snapped to mine, relief swirling in her green depths until she shuttered her reaction.

Callen's laughter died, and in two steps, he snatched me up and wrapped me in a fierce hug.

Kent had told him. I'd given her permission in the short call I'd made before the flight, providing her a brief rundown and access to a private server so she could discover the truth about Maya.

"Fuck, man…." He petered off, hugging me even harder until, apparently, he needed to check for himself that I was okay. He held me at arm's length, eyes roaming.

"I'm fine." I rolled my eyes but didn't shrug him away. We'd worked together for a long time, and this was just what he did. He loved hard and fiercely.

"But you were in a gunfight. A. Gun. Fight. Shit, did you even remember how to turn the safety off?"

A deep, familiar chuckle reached me. Michaels. He threw me a wink as I managed to escape Callen's attention. "You okay there, boss?"

A quick swallow of the bubble of emotions and I nodded. "Yeah." I peered around, taking in Smythe, Shaw, and Chris, and even Hart. "You're all here."

"Fuck, he must have hit his head. Done some damage." Callen stared at me with wide-eyed amusement, completely taking the piss. "There's no other explanation for you to think, for one second, that if you needed us, we wouldn't come running."

"Callen." Kent's tone was all exasperation. "Get out of the man's way so we can make a move."

"Right, we have my niece to save and a former psycho ex to take down." Callen rubbed his hands together, an expression of such intense belief sprinkled with joy and determination pouring off him that, damn him, I stepped into his space and hugged him hard.

A huff of surprise preceded his arms squeezing me back.

"We've got you, Lucas." Sincerity bled through his words, shooting warmth into my chest.

I believed him. Believed them all.

And they'd come here for me. To support me.

"Okay." I nodded and stepped back, pulling myself together as best as I could. "Team, roll out."

My unit patted me on the back as they split and jumped into the vehicles Tarka had supplied, Shaw's "Did Lucas just quote Optimus Prime?" disappearing behind his closed door.

I huffed out a laugh, relief fuelling the action. After I finished the brief introductions between Tarka and my unit, I got behind the wheel of the SUV, Tarka, Kent, and Callen joining me. Driving would help me focus. I needed that more than anything.

In the quiet of the car, the electric engine was whisper soft as we sped out of the hangar, straight through the security check, and onto the road. The rain had slowed, making it easier to navigate through the awful traffic.

Gathering my thoughts, I tried to figure out where to start and what to say.

Considering Callen was with me, I should have known I didn't need to worry. He may have been a bit of a wild card at times, but officially, he was my boss as division leader. Durrant's choice had surprised a lot of people, I was sure—especially Callen when he'd been promoted.

But not me.

He was funny and ridiculous and talked so much shit that sometimes I wanted to throttle him, but his skill was impressive, his determination even more so. Even though he played it down, he was also super smart. Maybe not on the same level with tech like me or computers and programming like Kent and Smythe, but he could read a situation and configure a plan within moments.

More importantly, he earned respect wherever he went. It kind of blew lots of folks' minds, since he could be as irresponsible as a squirrel on a sugar high. While we had exactly zero squirrels in Australia, he more than made up for it.

There was that one time he tried to prove that a paperclip and a rubber band could replace standard-issue handcuffs during an important briefing. Spoiler alert: it didn't work. Go figure. But somehow, amid the chaos and the random bursts of interpretive dance that he insisted were "team-building exercises," he managed to command a room like nobody else.

So, despite his quirks and the occasional desire to strangle him with his own tie—which I admittedly only saw him wear once, and for maybe five minutes—Callen was the leader we didn't know we needed. And really, who else could pull off a tactical mission in a Hawaiian shirt and still get results?

Not that he was wearing one now, thank goodness, but the sentiment remained.

"Fifty-word recaps from everyone. I'll start. Kent, you count."

"For the love of a plastic bag." Kent sighed, her fingers twitching. I wasn't sure if it was because she was imagining suffocating Callen, or if it was the fact that she was out in the wild with the rest of us rather than doing damage behind a computer screen.

It was likely both.

Pointedly ignoring Kent, Callen dove straight in. "Here's the lowdown: Durrant's more annoyed than a koala with a hangover. Apparently, we're this close"—he held up his hand so we could see his forefinger and thumb were barely a millimetre apart—"to having a new warrant out for our arrest."

His grin implied he wasn't in the least bit concerned about this. I could only hope he was exaggerating. Honestly, I couldn't be a hundred percent sure with Callen.

"And no, we still haven't captured Hornell. But… and this is pretty fucking awesome—we snagged his second in command! Which is news to everyone because no one even knew Hornell had a second in command."

How he could sound so gleeful, as if this was an exciting development, was beyond me. He wanted Hornell at the end of a barrel as much as every single member of our unit did.

"Oh, and you'll never guess where he definitely is. Victoria, for sure, but not Melbourne like we assumed. Cray-cray, right?"

Cray-cray? For the love of all that was sacred and whatever deity offered willpower and strength.

"Anyway, we used that ‘intel'"—he totally did air quotes—"to convince Durrant we're on top of things and that we should all head here to participate in Hornell-capturing badassery. Technically, we lied, because we have maybe half a clue where he is, but hey, it's the thought that counts, right?"

I sighed, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Callen, that was way more than fifty words." Apparently, that was all that was important right now. The rest of it was too much on top of everything else I was juggling.

Callen shrugged, undeterred. "Also, Lucas, I've been thinking—if anything ever happens to you, I think Thatch and I should be the legal guardian to the niece we never knew we had. We're doing a stellar job with Lucinda. Valeria could learn the art of tactical kickassery from the best."

Kent, who was in the rear passenger seat, looked up from her laptop—when she'd pulled that out, I had no clue—eyebrow raised. "You do realise she's older than you, right?"

Callen paused, clearly unperturbed. "Age is just a number, Kent."

"And a trained agent in on a whole heap of top-secret shit that would make your head spin."

"Pur-lease, as if she's broken half of the rules I have. There's a whole new skill set right there, just waiting for me to share."

"Says our boss ." Kent shook her head before refocussing on her screen.

My lips twitched. I appreciated the break in tension. How it was possible I'd missed these guys so much was beyond me. It was probable I needed to get out more.

At my side, Tarka chuckled. "You know that offer I made?"

I side-eyed him.

"I think I may need to add stipulations."

I huffed out a laugh.

"Why do I have a feeling that was a dig at me?" Callen's narrowed gaze met mine through the rearview mirror. He could scowl all he wanted. Both Kent and I knew he was full of shit. The very thought of being the centre of attention made him come alive.

"When Valeria was a kid, she used to want to be a puppy. That's something you could probably help her with." The memory of my seven-year-old obsessed with puppies, going so far as lapping at both water and blood from a bowl on the floor, pushed a smile to my lips. It was quickly erased by a stab of reality.

Right now, this very second, she could be being tortured. Dead.

"Hey." Callen gripped my shoulder from behind, his ability to read the shift in my emotions so swift, I was sure even Tarka would begin to see why he'd earned his role as division leader. "We'll get her back, and we'll buy her a damn puppy if need be."

A sad smile formed as I nodded.

It had been a long time since my child had wanted or needed anything from me.

Not only had I accepted responsibility for her mother "leaving" us after I caused a "car accident" so severe, it resulted in injuries that took me five days to heal from, but I accepted the blame for Maya's "untimely death." The story had been that I'd pushed her mum away as we'd grown apart, and she'd taken a position overseas. Unfortunately, that was where she'd been "caught up in a terrorist attack"—an explosion in the British Museum.

The latter had happened—the explosion had taken many lives, including supes'—shortly after what we'd thought was Maya's actual death in Darwin. It provided the perfect, reasonable explanation to Valeria, Maya's colleagues, and the few friends and family I had left.

I'd kept it all from Valeria—the toxic relationship—when she was a child and when she was just finding her way in the world. Maya's file had been sealed, so regardless of Valeria's position and role, she would never gain access.

Until now.

Callen eased back in his seat, and the conversation ceased as we drove on. I counted each kilometre, my promise to reach Valeria on a loop in my head. Then there was Ethan.

I cracked my neck.

I had to trust that together, they'd be okay. Even without a full explanation and no promises between us, if Ethan was able to protect Valeria, he would in a heartbeat. The certainty pressed against me, warm and growing familiar—something that had been happening more and more over the past week.

Increasing the speed, I watched the speedometer edge towards 130 as we finally broke free from the city and out of suburbia.

We'd make it. Get there in time. For what, I had no idea. But it didn't matter. I'd buried Maya a long time ago, in more ways than one.

I'd do it again in an instant, confident that every person at my side would follow my lead.