Page 54 of Ghost
As if on cue, a muffled thump echoes in the distance. I allow myself a grim smile. “That should keep them busy for a while.”
We push deeper into the ravine, moving through knee-deep snow.
“You know,” Ryan says after a while, “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Invested. Personal.” He pauses. “Even with Rachel, you kept a certaindistance.”
The mention of Rachel sends a familiar pang through my chest—not the searing guilt it once was, but a duller ache of regret. “This is different.”
“I see that.” Ryan’s tone holds no judgment, just observation. “Just be careful, brother. You’ve got a lot at stake.”
I don’t respond immediately, as I focus on navigating a particularly treacherous section of the ravine. Chaos moves ahead, testing the snow depth, finding the safest path.
“She’s worth it,” I finally say, the words emerging with a conviction that surprises even me.
Ryan accepts this with a simple nod. He knows better than to push further.
The ravine gradually widens, eventually opening onto an old logging road overgrown with vegetation but still passable. I increase our pace, knowing we’re on a direct path to the mining complex.
“How much of a head start does Willow have?” Ryan asks as we push forward.
“About thirty minutes by air. They’ll be at Guardian HRS’s safehouse before we reach the mine. I trust the Guardians to evade any pursuit by Reynolds.”
“And the evidence?”
“She has the primary drive. I have a backup we made at the cabin.” I check my watch. “Once we reach the mine, I’ll contact Guardian HQ, confirm her arrival and status. We’ll get the location.”
Three hours of hard marching later, the mining complex finally comes into view—a collection of weathered buildings nestled against the mountainside, partially reclaimed by nature. My fallback point.
I signal for caution as we approach, scanning for any signs of disturbance or danger. Everything appears undisturbed, exactly as it should be.
“Home sweet home,” Ryan mutters as we reach the largest structure—an old processing facility with reinforced walls and minimal windows. Perfect for defense.
Chaos immediately circles the building to check for threats. His training is impeccable—he never assumes safety until confirmed.
“Let’s get inside and establish comms,” I say, pulling out my keys. “I want to confirm Willow’s status before we do anything else.”
Ryan nods, helping me secure the perimeter. “And then?”
“We finish this.” My voice hardens with resolve. “Reynolds, his network, his entire operation—all of it goes down.”
“Like old times, then,” Ryan says with a grim smile.
“Better,” I correct him. “This time, we’re not bound by ROE or political considerations. This time, we’re free to do what needs to be done.”
Rules of Engagement were always the bane of our existence in official combat zones—the restrictions that often prevented us from effectively eliminating threats. Now, operating as private contractors against a criminal network, those constraints no longer apply.
Chaos returns from his perimeter check, giving a soft woof to indicate all clear. He falls in beside me as we approach the building, his warm body pressing against my leg in silent solidarity.
“I’m coming, Willow,” I whisper to the wind. “Just like I promised.”
The mining complex door creaks open, revealing the emergency cache I established years ago—communications equipment, weapons, supplies, everything needed to continue the fight. We step inside, closing the door on the Montana wilderness.
SIXTEEN
Willow
