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Cyclone

T he conference room at Golden HQ wasn’t fancy.

Just ten chairs, a long table, a pot of burned coffee, and enough history between the men inside to level a country.

I stood at the head of the table. River, Gage, Sean, Tag, Gideon, and Oliver sat around it, watching me with the kind of focus we usually saved for warzones.

Because that’s what this was now.

A war.

And it had Jude’s name on it.

I dropped a map and a printout of the fake plate Oliver had traced on the table, then flicked the projector on.

“Target was spotted last week at a gas station near Highway 74,” I said. “Same guy Jude saw at the pier. Same car. Oliver’s confirmed the shell company that rented the vehicle was a known CIA front, shut down three years ago.”

“Which means someone’s reactivating old ghosts,” River muttered, arms crossed.

“Or someone’s using them,” Gage added.

“Either way,” I said, “he’s not just passing through. He’s here for Jude. She saw a tattoo on his forearm. Coordinates from a Syrian ghost site. One she operated in. Off-books. Real black.”

Sean let out a low whistle. “You’re saying this guy was on the same op?”

“She doesn’t know. But she was the mission once. And if he’s back…” I swallowed hard. “He could be here to finish what someone else started.”

Oliver leaned forward. “What’s her status?”

“Grounded,” I said tightly. “I’ve got her with River until this is over.”

River didn’t argue. He didn’t need to. He’d already posted two eyes on the house and was running surveillance like we had a foreign dignitary under protection.

“She gave me a list of former contacts,” I added. “Names, locations, dead drops. Anyone tied to that site. If we can find a link, we find a motive. And maybe we find the bastard’s weakness.”

Gage stood and began pulling gear from a locker against the wall. “You want him brought in or taken out?”

“Brought in,” I said. “If possible.”

“Define possible,” Sean muttered.

“If he so much as looks at her again, all bets are off.”

They didn’t question it.

Didn’t push.

They knew.

This wasn’t just about stopping a threat.

It was about protecting my future .

“We’ll split up,” River said. “Gage and I will check the rental agency, see if they’ve got more camera angles. Sean and Oliver—you track credit card trails. Anything that ties this guy to a location. Cyclone, you stay close but low. If this guy knows you’re here, he may bolt.”

I nodded once. “But if he comes near her—”

River cut in. “We bury him.”

And just like that, the Golden Team was in motion.

The hunt had begun.