Page 49 of Ghost of Talon Mountain
Two hours. We just need to survive two more hours and everything uploads automatically. Then it won't matter if Healy's men find us—the evidence will already be out there.
If we can last that long.
I fire three rounds behind us without looking, forcing the pursuers to take cover. We're down to critical ammunition levels, but noise might make them think twice about charging blindly after us.
The terrain works in our favor—steep grade, dense forest, plenty of cover. I know these mountains. Spent three weeks up here during the op that went sideways. There's a cave network in this sector, multiple entrances and exits, natural choke points.
Perfect for a last stand.
We reach the cave entrance as the sun starts its final descent, bleeding orange across the snowpack. No time to appreciate the view. I pull Sierra inside, both of us gasping, weapons ready.
"Check the perimeter," she pants. "I'll secure the entrance."
I move fast, clearing the cave system. Main chamber about fifteen feet across, tall enough to stand in. Two secondary exits—one to the south, one west. Good. We won't be trapped if they breach the main entrance.
By the time I return, Sierra's already spreading our gear in the main chamber. Sleeping bags on thermal mats. Weapons within reach. The battery lantern casts shadows across stone walls.
"They're not following yet," she reports, peering out into the gathering dusk. "I think we lost them in the forest. But they know this general area."
"Then we fortify." I grab the tripwires from my pack. "They come at us again, it'll be on our terms."
We work in near silence, setting traps along the northern approach—the most likely attack vector. Sierra moves efficiently despite her shoulder, her training showing in every precise motion. The sun sinks lower with each passing minute, darkness creeping across the mountain like a living thing.
When we finish, full night has fallen. Sierra picks her way back through the trap pattern only we can navigate, her breath misting in the frigid air.
"That's done," she says quietly. "Anyone coming up that ridge is going to have a very bad night."
"Good." I scan the tree line one last time, cataloging shadows and distances. Nothing moves out there. Yet. "They'll regroup and hit us at dawn. Standard tactical timing."
She stands beside me at the cave mouth, still breathing hard from our retreat. Her cheeks are flushed from exertion and adrenaline, strands of dark hair escaping her braid. Fresh blood seeps through her shoulder bandage—the wound likely pulled open during our run.
"Then we have tonight," she says.
The weight of those words settles between us. Tonight. Maybe our last one.
"Come on." I touch her elbow, guiding her back into the cave. "Let me check that shoulder."
Inside, the temperature hovers just above freezing, but the cave blocks the wind that's been cutting through our layers all day. Sierra shrugs out of her tactical vest with a wince, the straps catching her injured shoulder.
"Sit." I kneel beside the sleeping bags, pulling out the medical supplies.
She obeys without argument, which tells me how much it hurts. I peel back the layers carefully—fleece jacket, thermal base layer, the blood-soaked bandage beneath.
"Damn it." I clean the wound with antiseptic, then apply fresh gauze. "You need to take it easy."
"Kind of hard when people are shooting at us."
"Fair point." I secure the new bandage, checking the tape edges. "But we've got maybe eight hours before they come again. Rest now. Fight later."
Sierra catches my wrist as I reach for the medical kit. "Chris, I need to say something."
My pulse kicks up despite myself. "You don't?—"
"Yes, I do." Her fingers tighten around my wrist, warm against my skin. "I've been hunting ghosts for so long. Evidence,patterns, proof. Cold cases and dead ends and suspects who slip away. I forgot what it feels like to just... be human with someone."
The lantern light catches in her eyes, turning them amber and gold. Fierce and vulnerable and absolutely terrifying in what she's offering.
"Sierra." Her name comes out rough.
