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Moments later, he emerged, his face ashen. “I’ve got two dead bodies. It’s the guys who were waiting by the vehicle. Close shots, straight to the head. Professional hit for sure.”
“But no Jason?” She could barely get the words out her throat was so tight.
“No Jason.”
Before Paige could process this information, the muffled sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. Her breath caught in her throat as she pivoted towards the door, weapon raised. Beside her, Cody mirrored her stance, both of them poised on a knife’s edge of tension.
The footsteps grew louder, more deliberate. A shadow fell across the threshold, and Paige’s finger tightened imperceptibly on the trigger.
The barrel of a gun swung into the doorway, followed by a dark head. Time slowed as recognition dawned. The familiar silhouette, the stance she knew so well from years of training together.
Jason.
“Don’t shoot,” she ordered, both her friend and Cody.
A black backpack slid down Jason’s shoulder, swinging from his forearm. He let it hit the floor. The air crackled with tension and unspoken questions.
Jason broke the silence first, his voice a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “What is going on?”
His gaze darted between Paige and Cody, taking in their defensive postures, the shock evident on their faces.
Paige lowered her weapon first, her body moving before her mind could catch up. In two quick strides, she closed the distance between them, throwing her arms around Jason in a fierce embrace.
The familiar scent of his aftershave filled her nostrils. He stiffened before relaxing into the hug, his own arms finally encircling her.
As they pulled apart, Paige really looked at him for the first time. Her heart clenched at what she saw. He looked exhausted, as if ten years had been drained out of him. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and new lines etched his face. But he was here, alive, and that was what mattered. No more solo heroics. No more running. His teammates, and his family, would help him heal.
Weapon at his side now, Cody jerked his thumb towards the bedroom, his expression grim. “Your work?” he asked Jason.
Jason pulled out of her arms and frowned, clearly not understanding. He moved past them, heading for the bedroom. A muffled curse reached them. When he returned, his face was ashen. “Not me,” he said, shaking his head. “I literally just got here.”
Cody stared him full in the face. “Exactly. How is it you happen to show up now?”
Jason backed up a step, holstering his weapon. “I got this.” Slowly, he reached into the front pocket of his pants and pulled out his phone, holding it out so they could see the screen. “Came about two hours ago. I was on my way?—”
“To the safe house,” Paige finished for him.
He nodded and hit play on the screen. A video very similar to the one they’d seen. Only this time, she and Cody were the bound prisoners.
Cody squeezed the back of his neck. “We got the same deepfake, only they said they had you.”
Jason pocketed his phone. “This is not optimal.”
“No kidding.” Paige eyed the doorway. “I don’t guess you contacted the team.”
Jason shook his head. “I’m thinking we both played this the same way. Not worth the risk.”
So no backup on the way.
The three of them exchanged worried glances.
“We need a plan,” Cody announced. “Fast.”
Jason unholstered his Glock, checking the magazine. “You got any ideas?”
Cody examined his own weapon. “We’ve got ammo and flash bangs. You?”
Jason reached for his pack. “Plenty of rounds and enough C-4 to level this dump. We need to book. This isn’t the best place to make a stand.”