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O ctavia Reynolds dunked her tea bag in her hot water and squeezed a fresh lemon. She came to this tiny little café thirty miles from the village where she lived once a month on the same day like clockwork.

Some months he showed.

Other months he did not.

Over the course of the last five years, she’d learned not to stress over the times Agent Tate didn’t appear from the shadows. He didn’t have to come. She wasn’t his problem.

But she appreciated his efforts and the reports of home.

Especially those that concerned Bellamy and her father.

More so the ones regarding Eric. It had taken her a few years to want to know and understand what Eric was doing. She’d needed the time to heal physically and emotionally.

She plopped her spoon in her beverage, twirled the bag around the metal, and squeezed out all the flavor. She couldn’t get this stuff in her village. Hell, she was lucky her water purifier hadn’t broken yet. Damn thing was older than dirt.

Glancing around, she watched as a few people milled about the streets. It often amazed her how she’d taken to this life. She always knew she could live without the comforts of home. Without her daddy’s money. That had never been in question.

It was living in the shadowy world of the dead that surprised her. She moved every couple of months from one remote town to the next. Always with the help of Tate. He was her lifeline. Without him, she might as well curl up under a rock and die.

Run, Octavia. Run.

The words of one of her fellow Peace Corps volunteers from five years ago echoed in her brain. She knew Andrea was safe, that she and Mark had been saved and that they had been rescued from the destruction and devastation of that attack.

That brutal annihilation of her small town. All those lives lost. And for what?

Power? Greed? To cover up lies and betrayal? To keep people quiet? To make sure the truth never saw the light of day?

But what exactly was that truth ?

Those questions still haunted her daily existence.

Tate did what he could, but he was a DEA agent working on completely different cases. In the five years she’d known him, he was almost always undercover. He risked his life to help her stay dead.

But he too wanted answers.

That raid on her village set one of his operations back a few years. He told her he had to start over. He wasn’t just pissed at why the raid happened.

He was angry at the team that came in and wreaked havoc on innocent lives.

That included Bellamy and his team.

Although, over the years, Tate had eased up on them, stating they were doing their jobs. He even explained to her how they’d all but been kicked out of some K9 Pilot Program.

Freaking Eric.

How could she have been so blind?

But she couldn’t prove a thing and neither could Tate. Not to mention his resources were limited and he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Like drug lords smuggling massive amounts of illegal substances into the United States.

Or missing young boys and girls. Although, that wasn’t really part of his role as a DEA agent, but he always looked into them when she gave him names. Tate was good about stuff like that. It was one of the reasons she stayed dead. She needed answers and she knew it was tied to Eric and why he’d done the unspeakable.

She blew into her tea and took a long, slow sip. God, that was good. Hot, roasty, bitter, and with a slight floral taste. It was a little slice of heaven. That should hold her over for another month. She used to buy some packets and bring it back to her tiny little room, but it just didn’t cut it. No. It was better to savor it when she came to town.

A nice little treat.

Like the piece of chocolate she’d get later.

And the nice hot shower she’d have at the hotel tonight. And again in the morning. It sure beat a bucket bath where she had to strain the bugs out of her bathwater with a towel so they didn’t get in her hair. But some always managed to tangle up in the strands.

Mindlessly, she twisted her fingers through her braid as she scanned the crowds.

Nova.

Octavia sat up a little taller. She shifted her gaze left and right. Her heart hammered in the center of her throat as she searched the crowded market for Tate, but he was nowhere to be found.

Hide. Run and hide.

The memories bombarded her brain like a missile landing on its target with precision. She could still feel the man’s fingers against her scalp as he dragged her by the hair down the street while rapid gunfire flew all around. He’d pulled her into a small hut, smacked her on the side of the head with something hard, and proceeded to beat her. To rape her. He stabbed her in the gut and then left her there to die a slow and painful death.

Octavia closed her eyes. She let the visions of her past engulf her mind. She could hear the dogs barking as if it were yesterday. She’d been so weak and in so much pain from her injuries that she could barely breathe, much less call out for help. But that damn dog was right there, sniffing. The animal should have known she was there.

And worse, she’d heard Bellamy’s voice.

That sweet, low timbre, commanding his dog to find… her.

But Roxy didn’t, and neither did Bellamy.

For days she lay crumpled up in that hut, hurting. Bleeding. Dying.

Until Tate found her and nursed her back to health.

It took months before she could get out of bed. Almost an entire year before her body had healed. Had she been in the States, it would have been much faster. But she was in a remote village, with doctors who learned their trade from other doctors passing through.

She was fortunate to be alive.

For the first two years, she could barely even speak of the attack, much less want to know anything about the details. But Tate continued to spoon-feed her information.

Eventually, Tate confirmed Eric’s ultimate betrayal. That it was he who was behind the attack. That it was he who pushed Bellamy and his team out of the K9 Pilot Program.

But, of course, Tate had little to no proof.

All he had were the orders, which didn’t make sense to him—or to her. The village was a quiet one. Granted, the country was unstable. Drug lords. Trafficking. It all existed. They were on a no-travel ban for a reason. But those insurgents weren’t your run-of-the-mill in-country bad guys. No. They were armed with military grade weapons. It was a well-planned attack.

With a purpose.

“Octavia,” Nova whispered.

She blinked open her eyes and smiled weakly. “Where’s Tate?” Tears burned as she stared at Nova’s bloodshot eyes as she eased into the chair across from Octavia, placing an envelope on the table.

Nova inhaled sharply. “He’s dead. Murdered. Gun downed by…” Nova turned as she swiped at her cheeks. She was also a DEA agent. A highly skilled professional and a woman Octavia suspected no one would dare cross. Not unless you wanted to be tortured before meeting your maker .

But to Octavia, Nova had become a friend. A confidant. Many times, Nova accompanied Tate to these meetings. He constantly warned Octavia that there might come a day when Nova took over, either because he’d become too old to play this game or the unspeakable happened.

“By who?” Octavia reached across the table and took Nova’s hand. “What happened?”

“Right now, the official story is that he was killed by a low-level pusher just north of the border in Texas.” Nova squared her shoulders. “I call bullshit. While Tate’s made a lot of enemies over the years, most of them aren’t petty dealers in the States. They are people in this country. Drug cartels. Drug lords who Tate has single-handedly slowed their operations or even put an end to their reign of terror.” Nova let out a slight chuckle. “Do you know what we call Tate in the office?”

“No. I don’t.” Without Tate, Octavia had no idea what was going to happen to her. It didn’t matter that Nova knew everything. That Tate trusted Nova with his life.

Nova wasn’t always in-country and Octavia couldn’t expect her to carry on with Tate’s side project.

Much less help her remain dead.

“The Terminator.” Nova tapped her fingers on the envelope. “Tate was dedicated to his career. But it was more than that. He truly believed in what he was doing. That he was making a difference in the world. It wasn’t just a job. It was a calling.”

“I got that about him.” Octavia nodded. A few months after he’d helped her settle into a new village, he’d begun filling her in on what he’d learned about the attack. He believed she’d been part of the plan. At first, she couldn’t grasp the thought. Why would anyone want her dead? Especially someone who had proclaimed their love for her?

But the longer she stayed dead, the more she believed Eric not only wanted her out of the picture, but something else too.

“I know you and Tate were close. I’m so sorry.” Octavia forced the tears to remain at bay.

“Now is not the time for grief.” Nova laced her fingers together and leaned across the table. “Tate was prepared for something like this to happen and he left this for you.”

“What is it?”

Nova held her stare. “Your identity is at risk. We have no idea how this happened, but Eric might know you’re alive.”

“No. That can’t be.” Octavia swallowed the bitter taste that filled her mouth. It was a combination of death and fear. She’d tasted it before. It had lingered in her throat for months after the attack. It tormented her like a nightmare lurking in the dark depths of her mind. “That would be disastrous. Even my father learning I didn’t perish in that attack would have horrible ramifications. It would cause a ripple effect that would endanger too many people.” It was those horrors that Tate had put in her head that kept her from contacting Bellamy during this last year.

“Tate wasn’t completely sure, but he’s not going to go mess with your life.”

For years, Tate focused his research on her father. It made sense. Her father loved Eric like a son. Her dad did whatever he could to help Eric with his career. At first, it was charming, especially when she became involved with Eric.

But as time passed, it began to bother her. Strangle her. Both her father and Eric had started to belittle her goals. Her desires. Her father constantly pressured her to settle down. To pick a date for the wedding. To decide.

And he certainly didn’t want her to take another volunteer stint with the Peace Corps. They fought over it.

Sort of.

Her dad agreed a short one would be fine. But a long one? He just didn’t understand. He asked her what she was running from and once again asked why she wouldn’t set a date for her wedding.

Eric had been worse. He’d gone ballistic when she informed him of her placement. He even threatened to call off the engagement. His argument had been, how could they start a life when she was living in a third world country?

Her retort?

He was always going off on missions.

That argument didn’t go over too well, and off she went to Colombia. He begged her to come home. He told her there were things she didn’t understand and that something was happening.

However, Eric quickly changed his tune and visited her often, but it was too late and she called off the wedding. It was that shift that sent her down a fact-finding mission that left her blood cold.

In moments like this, she wanted to reach out to Bellamy.

He couldn’t be part of the problem. Then again, she couldn’t be sure. He was good with animals. Better with them than with people. So, if his dog had failed at finding her, she had to ask why?

She also had to ask why her father had sent Bellamy and his team after the raid. Tate specifically stated that her dad picked Bellamy and his men. Only the best for his little girl.

Well, the best had failed.

“How well do you know Lemin Basker?” Nova asked.

“Not well, but he’s tight with Eric. Why?”

“I’m not sure. Tate mentioned something to me about those two before he went back to the States. He said he’d read me in when he got back. Obviously, that didn’t happen.”

“Lemin and Eric went to high school together. Lemin made his billions in Silicon Valley. He’s a bit of a thrill seeker and loves to travel. He and Eric take trips together all the time.”

“I’ll look into it.” Nova tapped her finger on the envelope. “Inside here are documents and instructions. Tate wants you to go to a location. There is a map inside. You must be there by sundown tomorrow.”

“Are you coming with me?”

Nova shook her head. “I’ve been ordered back to the United States.” She took Octavia’s hand. “Your continued safety requires that you do exactly what Tate has outlined inside that envelope. Don’t stray from Tate’s plan. Don’t question it. Your life could be at stake.” Nova squeezed her hand. “We’ll see each other again. I’m sure of it. Be safe.” She stood and disappeared into the sea of people.

A guttural sob filled Octavia’s chest.

Tate was gone.

Dead.

And in a weird way, Nova might as well be now too.

As quickly as she could, she gathered the envelope, dumped it in her bag, and raced off toward her hotel, constantly glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was following her. Every person she passed was suspect. Did they look at her sideways? Could they have possibly recognized her as Octavia Reynolds?

Was anyone still really looking for her?

Her hair was longer. Much longer. It was even much lighter from being in the sun all the time. She had a scar on her face that hadn’t been there before from where her attacker had taken a knife to her cheek.

She had burns on her shoulder where he had put out a cigar on her skin.

The assault had lasted for what seemed like hours. She honestly had no idea. But it was long enough for the man to rape her. To break her bones. To destroy her resolve.

The first year after she’d been attacked, she could barely leave the confines of the home Tate had found for her to recover in. The second year, she couldn’t leave the village. It had taken nearly three years for her to feel relatively safe.

And now?

She was horrified all over again.

Once inside her hotel room, she pulled out her cell. It was an old one, but it worked. She stared at it. Who would she even call?

Bellamy.

No. As much as she knew in her heart that he couldn’t have had anything to do with what happened to her, he couldn’t save her now .

With shaky fingers, she dumped the contents of the envelope on the bed. It wasn’t much. A packet of documents maybe ten pages thick. They were typed, but Tate had written notes on the side. She knew he had because she knew his handwriting.

There was also a note.

She lifted that and with tears in her eyes, she read it.

My Dearest O.

She blinked. O. That’s what he always called her and at first it made her cry. Tate couldn’t have known that’s what Bellamy used to call her.

She smoothed out the note and sucked in a deep breath.

If you’re reading this, it means I couldn’t make the meeting and Nova came in my place. It means something bad happened to me. It means I’m most likely dead.

She gasped. Her lifeline to the realities of the world outside of Colombia was gone. It was one thing to have everyone else believe she was dead. But to have no contact to a living, breathing person from her past was something else entirely. It made it all real. It made it as though all this hiding might have been done in vain.

But it also means that I have stumbled onto something big. It’s not enough yet to bring down those who set all this in motion. Or to put away those who hurt you. What you have in your hands now is some information on Eric. It’s only the tip of the iceberg. But again, it’s not enough. Nova will most likely be reassigned. Keeping her at my side has been a battle for a few years. Why some assholes believe women aren’t cut out for undercover work is beyond me, but I digress.

I’ve set in motion for you to be extracted from Colombia. And O, you have to leave. I fear Eric knows you’re alive. I don’t know how, but it could have something to do with Lemin Basker. I’m afraid that Eric is now gunning for me. That also means he could be coming for Nova and I have to keep her safe too. She’ll have her own role to play in all this and trust me, it will be confusing. I only have pieces. I’m hoping in death, I can put them together. Please, don’t take this lightly. The team I’m sending for you, I trust with my life. Please, O, go to the extraction point. Give them these documents. Let them help you sort this out.

I also fear for your father.

I believe he’s been a pawn in Eric’s play for greed and power. However, I wouldn’t necessarily go running to him. Not at first. I don’t know what he knows or how deep he’s in this stuff. And trust me, this shit goes deep and snakes off into different paths. Tell the team to protect your dad from a distance. They will know how to do that. They are experts. They do this kind of stuff day in and day out.

Be safe. Remember everything I taught you. Trust only the team. And Nova. No one else.

Your friend, Tate.

Olivia wiped the tears away. This was not the time to grieve. Tate wouldn’t want her to spend these precious moments on that. She trusted Tate. If this was what he wanted, then this was what she’d do. She stuffed the contents back into the envelope.

Racing around, she packed what few things she’d brought and bolted from the room. She checked out and headed for the closest Taxibrousse. The extraction point was twelve hours away. Traveling at night was dangerous in these parts.

But doing it during the day could be the kiss of death.

She purchased her ticket, sat on the bench with the other locals, and hugged her backpack.

It was going to be a long night.

The realization that she was going to be headed back to the States hurled into her chest. She wasn’t sure she would ever see the day. Or that she wanted to.

But she did want justice.

Not just for herself. Not anymore.

For Tate.

He was a good man and he didn’t deserve to die.