Page 57 of Hunter's Game
“Already arranged.” Katherine pulled out a phone, rapidly typing commands. “There’s a private facility twenty minutes from here. Fully staffed, completely secure. And more importantly...” She met Hunter’s eyes. “Not compromised by Romano’s people.”
“Why should we trust you?” But even as he asked, Hunter was helping load Eden into the transport.
“Because Sarah Mitchell was my best friend.” Katherine’s voice cracked slightly, the composed museum curator momentarily revealing the battle-hardened operative beneath. “And I won’t let her daughter die like she did.”
“Sarah...” Understanding hit. “You were there. When Eden’s mother was killed.”
“I was the one who helped her gather evidence against Romano.” Katherine climbed into the transport beside them, her movements revealing specialized medical training as she immediately began assisting the medic. Her fingers moved with practiced precision, applying pressure in exactly the right locations while monitoring vital signs with professional assessment.
“The one who helped her hide the evidence before they caught her,” she continued, voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes. “Sarah knew the risks, knew that gathering proof againstan organization this powerful might be a one-way mission. She prepared contingencies—documentation methods that appeared routine but created perfect evidence chains, strategic positioning of key artifacts that contained encoded data, training different skill sets in each of us to ensure mission continuity if either was compromised.”
The methodical approach Katherine described explained so much about both women—Eden’s tactical infiltration expertise complementing Katherine’s long-term strategic positioning, creating a system Romano never saw coming until it was too late.
“And you’ve been waiting fifteen years to finish what she started,” Hunter observed, noting how Katherine’s analytical assessment of Eden’s condition never wavered despite the emotional conversation.
“Fifteen years of maintaining deep cover,” she confirmed. “Building credentials that gave me access to exactly the evidence we needed, positioning myself where I could document everything while appearing completely uninvolved. Sarah understood that some operations require patience rather than direct confrontation.”
The transport lurched into motion, sirens wailing as they navigated through chaos. Hunter kept pressure on Eden’s wound while Katherine coordinated with the private facility.
“The Devil’s Mark patches?” He had to ask.
“What’s left of them.” Katherine’s smile was sharp. “Turns out not everyone was happy about Merrick working with Romano. When they found out what really happened to Sarah...”
“They switched sides.”
“They chose survival,” she corrected. “Romano’s operation is burning. Everyone’s scrambling to distance themselves, including some very powerful people who don’t want their connections exposed.”
As if to prove her point, her phone buzzed with updates. She showed Hunter the screen—news alerts about simultaneous raids across three states, high-profile arrests, evidence of corruption at multiple levels of law enforcement.
“Eden’s plan worked better than she expected.” Katherine’s voice held something like pride. “The FBI task force found exactly what they needed to justify a full operation. Romano’s entire network is being rolled up as we speak.”
“What about his brother?” Hunter remembered Aleksander’s laugh just before Eden triggered those final explosions.
“Dead in the blast.” She pulled up surveillance footage showing the explosion that had taken out Romano’s position. “Eden made sure of that. Though she nearly got herself killed in the process.”
“She knew.” The words tasted bitter. “She knew she might have to sacrifice herself to end this.”
“Like mother, like daughter.” Katherine’s voice was soft. “Sarah made the same choice. Tried to take the shot herself rather than let someone else risk it. The difference is, Eden had backup. Had people watching her back.”
Hunter looked down at Eden’s too-pale face, watching for any sign of consciousness. “Fat lot of good we did. She still got shot.”
“She got shot saving you.” Katherine’s voice held no accusation, just fact. “That was her choice. Just like helping her finish this is yours.”
Before he could respond, Eden’s vitals crashed. The medic moved with practiced efficiency, but Hunter could tell it was bad. Really bad.
The rest of the ride passed in a blur of medical terminology and desperate measures. Hunter found himself praying to gods he’d stopped believing in years ago, bargaining with whatever power might be listening.
They reached the private facility just as Eden’s heart stopped for the first time.
The next hours were a special kind of hell. Hunter paced the secure waiting room, his usual tactical patience abandoned in the face of helplessness. For a man accustomed to action, to solving problems through direct intervention, being unable to do anything while Eden fought for her life was unbearable torture.
The blood on his hands—her blood—had dried in the creases of his palms, and he couldn’t bring himself to wash it away yet. It formed a macabreconnection to her, a physical reminder of the woman who’d somehow become essential to him in mere weeks.
He found himself remembering details he hadn’t realized he’d cataloged—the exact shade of blue her eyes turned when she was plotting something dangerous, the slight dimple that appeared in her left cheek during rare, genuine smiles, how she always smelled faintly of gunpowder and something citrusy beneath tactical gear and combat.
Katherine watched him with knowing eyes as she coordinated with both federal agents and outlaw bikers, managing the chaos Eden had orchestrated. “She’d hate seeing you like this,” she observed quietly during a break between calls. “All emotional and irrational.”
“She’s not seeing it,” Hunter responded, voice rough with fear and exhaustion. “Might never see anything again.”
