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TWEL VE

T he first pale streaks of dawn filtered through the narrow cracks between the window shutters, brushing faint gold over the rumpled sheets tangled around Chase’s legs. He lay still, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting on the warm spot where Alyssa had been just moments ago before she’d slipped away.

He still felt her everywhere. In the heat clinging to the air, in the faint scent of her shampoo on the pillow, in the harsh ache in his chest that no mission could scrub away.

Last night hadn’t been about scratching an itch. It hadn’t been about adrenaline or proximity or the danger pressing at their backs. It had been...different. Heavy and necessary and real in a way that unsettled him far more than a mission ever could.

Chase let out a breath and scrubbed a hand down his face. He couldn’t afford this. Not now. Maybe not ever.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, slicing through the haze of his thoughts. He grabbed it without thinking.

“Yeah,” he answered, voice raspy.

Dante’s voice came through, full of amusement. “Well, well. Sleep well, Romeo? Turn in early?”

Chase scowled at the ceiling. “Don’t know where the hell this is coming from, but I don’t need your input.”

There was a bark of laughter on the other end. “Relax, man. I’m not concerned with what’s going on in your personal life. Right now, we’re talking about the chopper.”

Chase swung his legs off the bed, grounding himself.

Focus. Mission first. Always.

“What do you got?” He stood and dragged on his pants one-handed.

“Finally got what we were waiting for.” Dante’s voice shifted into the clipped, serious tone that came with critical intel. “The base commander’s clean. We triple-checked his computer and his private life—no weird bank accounts, no off-the-books meetings. He wasn’t part of the sabotage. Guy’s record is boring as hell but airtight.”

Chase’s jaw flexed. He hadn’t wanted to think the commander had sold them out, but in this line of work, trust was something you earned every damn day.

“Times and terminal logs show exactly when the tampering went down,” Dante continued. “We’re sending the files now, but bottom line—you need to get back to that base. Whoever was assigned to that flight maintenance at the time? That’s your saboteur.”

Chase heard the faint squeak of the floorboards from Alyssa’s footsteps outside the bedroom. His body went taut, instinctively alert even though he knew it was her and they were safe.

“Copy that,” he said into the phone. “We’re moving.”

“Good.” Dante paused.

“What else you got?”

“The spyware on Kennedy’s PC was there before the time of the attack.”

“I figured as much. What’s going on there? Anything I need briefed on?”

Dante grunted. “Same as usual. Digging up dirt, flipping over rocks. Waiting for orders. You’re not missing out on anything here. But hey…be careful. Someone willing to crash a bird full of good men? They’re not gonna play fair.”

The line went dead.

Chase dropped the phone onto the bed, grabbed his shirt, and headed toward the kitchen where Alyssa stood sipping a cup of tea, her hair still messy from sleep but her eyes sharp.

“What was the call about?”

He knew very well that she read his expression without much effort.

“About the chopper crash. We’re going to the base. Now.”

Something flickered between them—unspoken, heavier than before—and for a second he almost reached for her. Almost. But he didn’t. Couldn’t.

There was work, then there was pleasure.

Mission first.

Always.

He found another scooter to rent within a few blocks of the safehouse. The ride to base was unremarkable, Alyssa staying still and silent behind him. Only the occasional tightening of her arms around his waist told him that she was thinking about what they were about to face.

Chase kept scanning the roads, prepared to reach for his weapon tucked in his waistband.

By the time the base gates rose into view, the desert sun was a hammer overhead, baking the asphalt and glaring hotly.

They flashed their clearance at the gate and were waved through, the guards barely sparing a second glance. Another benefit of knowing how to blend into the background.

Chase spotted the base commander near the ops building, barking orders at a pair of MPs. The man turned as they approached, his expression guarded.

“Sir,” Chase greeted, coming to a stop in front of him.

The commander’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Didn’t expect you back so soon.”

Chase didn’t waste time. “We know you weren’t part of the sabotage.”

The commander’s brows lifted, and he folded his arms. “This isn’t the place for that discussion.” Without another word, he performed a sharp turn and walked to the entrance, his strides long and his legs stiff.

Chase traded a look with Alyssa. A worry line settled between her black brows, but she didn’t speak as they followed Thorne inside.

The hallways were busy at this time of day, with the bustle of people performing their daily tasks assigned to them.

He closed the door behind them and turned, arms folded again in that defensive stance. “Let’s pick up where we left off, shall we? You were investigating me in connection to Echo team’s helicopter crash?”

“It’s our job to check into everyone, search every shadow,” Chase said evenly. “We know you’re clean. Now we need to know who’s not.”

There was a moment’s pause. Then the commander gave a short nod, a glimmer of respect flashing across his face. He sank to the chair behind his desk and waved for them to sit. Though Chase’s nerves had him itching to pace the confines of the small office, he saw Alyssa seated first before taking his own chair.

“You have my attention.”

Chase met the man’s gaze squarely. “A portal was opened that day on the computer. You know who opened it.”

The commander’s mouth thinned. “Yeah. I know.”

“So where’s the guy?” Chase’s fists curled in his lap.

The corner of Thorne’s eye twitched, but he only hesitated a beat. “In the brig,” he said grimly.

“The brig? All this time? Why haven’t you turned him over to the CIA?”

Chase’s gut tightened. They were trained to spot cracks, to ferret out betrayal—but it tore his guts out that someone on the inside turned and caused all of his brothers to die.

He jolted to his feet. “We need to question him.”

The commander hesitated, then nodded. “I’m not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for. In all the years Hyde has been in the brig, he’s never cracked under questioning.”

Chase could make him crack. He could make anyone crack.

The commander leaned back, fist pressed to his lips. “For what it’s worth…I feel responsible. This happened on my watch.”

Chase shook his head. “You’re not the one who tampered with that bird.”

“Still,” the commander said, voice low. “I let a snake in my house. And that’s on me.”

Chase understood that guilt too well.

“Point is,” the commander continued, “if you two think there’s a bigger threat out there…you’ll have my full cooperation. Whatever you need.”

Alyssa’s eyes relented slightly, but her voice was steady. “Thank you, sir.”

Chase pushed off the desk. “Where’s the brig?”

The commander stood. “Follow me.”

Chase hesitated a moment longer, something still gnawing at him.

“One more thing, sir,” he said, straightening. “Why’d you have Rezvan tailing us?”

The commander didn’t flinch, but something colder settled behind his eyes.

“Rezvan wasn’t following you. Not exactly,” he said. “I put him on everyone connected to the investigation. Standard protocol when we’ve got a potential leak and no idea how deep it runs. I needed to make sure nobody was playing both sides.”

Chase firmed his jaw, absorbing that. It made sense. Ugly, but necessary.

“So you didn’t trust us either,” he said quietly.

The commander shook his head once. “Trust had nothing to do with it. You know better than anyone that trust without verification gets people killed. You checked into me. I checked into you.”

Chase let out a slow breath, tension bleeding off his shoulders. As much as he hated it, he understood it.

“Fair enough,” he said.

The commander’s mouth quirked in something close to a grim smile. “Good. Because we’re all going to need to trust each other a hell of a lot more than we have.”

As they crossed the courtyard toward the detention facility, Chase felt the weight of the day settle on him. The pull between what they were chasing and what he was feeling for Alyssa tightened around his chest like a noose.

He thought about last night—the way her body had moved against his, the way she’d touched him like he mattered. Like he wasn’t just another weapon pointed at an enemy. He thought about how, even now, a part of him wanted nothing more than to grab her hand, promise her things he had no business promising.

But there was no space for promises here.

Only the mission.

Only the war waiting just beyond the wire.

They reached the brig. Two guards stepped aside at the commander’s nod, and Chase and Alyssa were ushered into a concrete-walled room with a single cot and a small table with a straight-backed chair. Barely better than civilian prisons.

He waved a hand at Thorne, gesturing for him to open the door and allow them inside. Thorne paused but reached for a set of keys hooked on his uniform.

Before they stepped into that space with the man responsible for taking down the chopper carrying all of his brothers-in-arms, Alyssa put a hand on his arm.

“You’re too close to this situation. I want to question him.”

He stilled. He could break anyone…including the bastard who might be responsible for that crash.

But maybe she was right.

He felt himself nod before he made up his mind.

There wasn’t any other person in the world he would hand over the control to.

* * * * *

Specialist Hyde sat on the cot. At their entrance, he looked up at the commander. Then his attention slid to Julian and Alyssa, his eyes darting nervously between them.

The commander moved off, leaving them alone with the man he’d held in connection to that terrible tragedy years ago.

Julian closed the door behind him with a quiet snick , then stepped forward into the dim light.

He didn’t smile. Didn’t speak. Just let the silence stretch until Hyde squirmed.

Alyssa pulled out a chair and sat across from the man—or kid. The guy was young, early twenties. Probably stationed on this base right out of bootcamp.

Julian stared down at the guy. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two, sir.”

“Jesus. You probably didn’t even have hair on your balls when the chopper crash happened.”

Hyde stiffened at mention of the crash. He sat rigidly on the cot while Julian went to lean against the wall, staring at him with the same cold look he’d stared at Alyssa with the day she was questioned by Blackout command.

She darted a look at him, saw his barely perceptible nod to begin the questioning, and moved to the only chair in the prison cell.

“How long have you been in the brig?” Her voice surprised her. It wasn’t the usual tone she used when negotiating with ambassadors, or terrorists years before that.

Her voice sounded low and lethal, not her own.

She realized that she was carrying Julian’s weight on her shoulders. The pain and guilt he bore from being the only survivor on Echo team.

She gathered herself and folded her hands on the table. “Let’s start simple,” she said. “You don’t want to die for someone who doesn’t care if you rot in this cell.”

Hyde swallowed hard, and he clasped his trembling hands together.

Julian crossed his arms over his chest, the weight of everything—the mission, the fury at losing his whole team—settled in his stare.

She caught Julian’s eyes and held them until she saw a shift in him.

“Tell us how it all began.”

Hyde had broken out in a sweat. The room was warm, but the pressure was getting to him. He swiped the back of his hand over his forehead, and his throat worked as if the words were choking him.

“I’ve never told anybody about that day. But…I’m ready to talk.” He met Julian’s glare with a sort of braveness that touched Alyssa.

“We’re listening,” she said in a tone that sounded more like her.

Hyde gulped again. “I received an email from a Proton Mail account. Anonymous.”

A flutter took up residence in her stomach. “Go on.”

“It was untraceable. I tried after…”

“What did the email say?” she pressed.

His brow creased like a slash of pain. “It was a picture of my mother taken while she was receiving her first chemo infusion.”

All the air sucked out of the room. She couldn’t spell out everything that was coming, yet she knew. Blackmail.

“She wasn’t born in the United States. She came from Colombia on a visa to attend college. There she met a guy, got pregnant with me. The guy vanished, and she had me. But she didn’t leave after her visa ran out. She worked and raised me.”

“You didn’t know that she was allowed to remain in the US?” Alyssa asked him.

His eyes fixed on her face, wide. “I was born a citizen, but she wasn’t. I understood that she would have to leave the US for a number of years before she was allowed to return legally. Or I had to prove I could support her…and I couldn’t at the time. I was afraid everything would be found out and she’d be bounced.”

He spread his hands in a helpless manner.

Alyssa changed paths. “Did the email contain anything else? Or only the picture of your mother?”

He nodded. In a clear voice, he recited the words as if he’d gone over them a million times while he sat alone in this cell. “It said, ‘How bad do you want her to live?’”

Alyssa didn’t dare look at Julian. She didn’t want him to see that the story was pulling at her heart.

“The person who emailed never identified himself. He just told me that he had the power to send her back to Colombia. If she went back, she couldn’t receive her cancer treatments and she’d die.”

“What did he ask you to do in order to keep your mother in the country, Specialist Hyde?”

“He said all I had to do was open a portal on the computer. He’d add spyware. H-he never said he was going to hurt anyone.” He grew agitated, hands spreading wide in a gesture of helplessness. “I thought he was selling secrets.”

Julian stirred. He pushed away from the wall, fists clenched at his sides.

She extended a hand toward him to stop him from saying what was most definitely on his mind—selling secrets caused people to die.

He took a quick step toward Hyde, and the man shrank back.

“Julian!” She jerked to her feet.

“I’m going to break his neck. He killed my teammates. My friends. My goddamn brothers .”

She crossed the short span of the room to grasp Julian’s arm. Head tipped up, she held his gaze. “You asked me to question him. Let me do my job.”

Though she pitched her voice in a low murmur, he heard. His muscle under her hand flexed, and he stepped backward, spine pressed against the wall once more.

Trying to shake off how ruffled she felt, Alyssa returned to her seat and continued questioning Hyde using all of her psychology skills and reassuring him often to keep him talking.

She didn’t think he was a villain in this tale. Only a desperate and unaware pawn.

“You were young,” she said softly.

He nodded, eyes downcast.

“You were protecting your mom. You didn’t know what to do.”

Julian grated out, “Why talk now? Why didn’t you say something years ago? Right after it happened?”

He inflated his lungs with air. “My mother’s in remission. I…don’t have anything to hold over me now.” He looked up, straight at Julian. “You see, I served in the military as a way to give back to the country that harbored me and my mother all those years I was growing up. And I messed that up…”

Alyssa and Julian traded a look. Neither of them felt good about this. Even though they’d learned so much, it still didn’t feel like a win. All the pieces of the puzzle felt like none of them fit together and yet all of them created one big picture that they had yet to make out. But their mission was done; they’d found out what happened at the Red Cross facility and with Echo’s chopper.

They took their leave of Hyde. Locking him inside the brig left Alyssa with a heavy weight in her stomach that only increased when they joined the commander waiting for them outside the compound.

Julian stepped up in front of the man, not saying a word about what they learned from the young man who was blackmailed and lured into allowing someone with deadly intentions to commit a terrible act.

“We need transport to the States,” Julian said.

Thorne gave him a hard nod. “I’ll arrange it for tomorrow. 2300. Be on base at 2200.”

This.

This was the moment they had been fighting toward—completing the mission, bringing down the threat. Victory was within reach. But standing there, watching the hard lines of Julian’s face, she felt nothing like a victor.

Tomorrow night, it would be over.

The mission. The adrenaline. The small, stolen moments with him that had felt more real than anything she’d known in a long time.

The clock was already ticking down, and every second that passed was one she wouldn’t get back.

Alyssa swallowed hard and forced herself to stand tall, to smile when Julian turned to catch her eye.

They were on the path to piecing everything together.

So why did it feel like she was losing everything?