Page 24 of Echo: Line

Battery critical. Final warning.

Pulling away, and Alex releases my wrist. The absence of contact feels like cold air rushing in.

"I should turn it off," I say. "Save what's left for emergencies."

"Wait." He shifts, wincing at the movement. "The truck. Glove box. Check under the registration papers."

I give him a questioning look but go to the truck. Under the registration, my fingers find a thin burner phone/radio combo wrapped in plastic. I bring it back.

"Committee vehicle," Alex explains. "Every tactical unit carries backup communication. Protocol in case primary systems are compromised." He takes it from me. The screen shows half charge. "They won't be monitoring it yet."

The phone powers on. Alex navigates to the keyboard and punches in an unlisted number that will disappear off any system in ten seconds or less after the call ends and hits dial. Speaker on, and the ringing fills the cabin.

Three rings. Four. Then a click and a voice—deep, controlled, radiating authority.

"Talk."

"Kane. It's me." Alex's voice turns professional. "I'm compromised but mobile. Need extraction protocol Delta-Seven."

A pause. "Location?"

"Montana wilderness. Exact coordinates unknown. Can get them with time."

"Status?"

"Injured but stable. GSW to the side, treated and packed. Mobile with assistance."

Longer pause. "You said compromised. Elaborate."

Alex glances at me. "I'm not alone. FBI agent. She saved my life."

The silence stretches. Then Kane's voice comes back, harder. Suspicious.

"Explain."

"Agent Delaney Ward. Patterson sent her to arrest me. The Committee sent a kill team to eliminate us both. She figured it out. Got us clear. Kept me alive." He pauses. "She's solid, Kane. I trust her."

"Put her on," Kane says finally.

Alex hands me the phone. Our fingers brush in the transfer, and his eyes hold mine for a moment. Trust me, they seem to say. Or maybe, Don't make me regret this.

Taking the phone. "This is Agent Ward."

"Agent Ward." Kane's voice is measured. Professional. But there's an edge underneath. "Alex trusts you. That's worth something. But I need to know—are you FBI first, or are you with us?"

The question cuts to the core of everything. Who am I? What do I believe? Where do my loyalties lie?

Twenty-four hours ago, the answer would have been simple. I'm FBI. Always.

But that was before everything I believed in tried to kill me.

"I'm with him," I say. The words come out steady. Certain. "The Committee tried to have me executed. Patterson set me up. I want answers, and I want justice. If that means helping Alex and Echo Ridge, then that's what I'm doing."

Another pause. Then: "Good enough. For now." Kane's voice shifts, becomes tactical. "We'll move on your position once wehave coordinates. Until then, stay dark. Trust no one. And Agent Ward?"

"Yes?"

"Keep him alive. We need him."