Page 180 of Operation: Defiance

“We should set up secure messaging drops if we’re…separated.”

The tremor’s back. Worse this time. Fuck. She’s not ready for this. Neither am I. Not truly. The idea of Raine on her own… I know she’s capable. Hell, she spent fifteen years in the field. She’s probably more capable than I am. But after what she survived, she needs stability.

“We will. I’ll handle that first. Unless you have a protocol you’ve used before? You tell me what you need, and I’ll make it happen.”

“I…trust you.” Her gaze finally meets mine, and the truth there…it’s enough to destroy me. “We can’t keep playing defense. I’ve been hiding for too long. The only way to end this is to find something I can use to stop them.”

“Okay. You do that. I’ll handle logistics. Everything. I won’t get in your way, but if you need help—or if you need me to tell you what I’m doing and how—I’m here.”

I’m already running through exits in my head—the stairs, the service corridor three floors down, the elevator, even the roof. GSD will come for me first. Raine might be the end game, but they think I’m the leverage.

She turns back to the laptop, tense, but focused. “I could do this alone,” she says, opening the stolen log files and then glancing up at me. “It matters that I don’t have to.”

In the bedroom, I crouch down and open the panel in the back of the closet. The safe is barely large enough to hold a shoebox, but its contents are worth more to me than anything else in the apartment—except Raine.

I take inventory. Enough cash to get us out of the country, four fresh ID packets for me, a 9mm Beretta, two boxes of ammunition, and a thumb drive of secrets I’ve collected over the years. In case I ever had to blackmail someone to get myself out of danger.

There’s one more thing I need, but I can’t get it on my own.

In five minutes, I open an encrypted text channel from my tablet.

I need one more favor. But only if you can do it without going through a single government channel.

Inara replies almost immediately.

“Name it.”

If I’m wrong about her, this could backfire. But I’ve stayed alive this long because I’ve learned how to read people.

I need a clean ID for Raine. Clean enough to get her out of the country. Somewhere warm. Somewhere that doesn’t computerize Customs records. And I need it by tomorrow.

The chat bubbles dance along the bottom of the screen. Stop. Then start again.

Dead drop after 4:00 p.m. You pick the location.

I blow out a long, slow breath.

How much do I owe you?

More bubbles. Shorter this time.

You saved my life once. I can cover it. Send me the location by 3:30 p.m. and I’ll make it happen. No contact, and if I see anyone who looks like they shouldn’t be there, I’ll let you know.

The tension holding my shoulders halfway up to my ears eases as I sever the connection. Whatever happens next, Raine will have options. As long as I’m alive, I’ll do whatever I can to make sure no one takes that from her again.

Chapter Forty-One

Raine

Asher moves smoothly around the kitchenette. He’s quiet, chopping vegetables for a light stew, handling laundry, and occasionally frowning at his tablet screen like it offended him.

I want to ask if there’s been more pressure on Mason Locke or the other alias he tried to play off as incidental. But if I lose focus, what I’m about to do crosses the line from risky to tactically fatal.

Working in Systems let me see all the places an agency the size of GSD never thought to lock down. The address I type into the browser shouldn’t still exist. But bureaucracy leaves redundancies open long after anyone remembers why they were built in the first place. This particular system only existed to hold the records GSD didn’t care enough to migrate but was too cautious to delete.

Ellen was the one who first alerted me to its existence not long after I completed my field agent training.

“Memorize this address, Raine. You’ll probably never need it, but if you’re ever compromised in the field and can’t go through normal channels, it’ll give you a backdoor.”