Page 54 of Rescuing Ally: Part 2

Paul steps closer, his gaze moving between us. “Functional’s a good start, but you two look like you’ve been beating the shit out of each other.”

Forest’s eyes narrow as he takes in Hank’s healing split lip and the careful way I’m holding my ribs. “Please tell me you didn’t take it that far.”

I shrug, not meeting his eyes. Hank’s silence beside me answers more than words would. We didn’t work through shit—just beat the hell out of each other and agreed to coexist in tense silence for the sake of the mission.

“What did Mitzy find?” I deflect, needing to move past the uncomfortable territory.

“That’s what we’re all trying to figure out.” Paul jerks his head toward where Mitzy continues working. “She’s been crawling all over that thing for the past hour, muttering about quantum interference patterns and electromagnetic signatures.”

“She won’t tell us what she found,” Forest adds, “just keeps saying she needs to ‘verify the baseline parameters’ before she explains anything.”

“Sounds like Mitzy.” Hank’s voice carries the first hint of warmth since we left Guardian HRS. Dealing with the tech division’s resident genius has a way of putting everyone on the same page—specifically, the page labeled ‘what the fuck is she talking about now?’

“Finally.” Blake straightens when he spots us approaching. “Thought you two might have killed each other before you made it here.”

Rigel punches him in the arm. “Tactful as always.”

Blake grins, but there’s genuine concern behind it. “We all know about the gym.”

I owe this man an apology—a big one—for the shit I said when I lost control. For questioning his loyalty to the team. For implying he didn’t care about the women as much as the rest of us.

“About what I said.” The words come out rough, but they’re real. “About Sophia being safe. That was way out of line.”

Blake’s expression softens, understanding passing between us. “Don’t worry about it. We’re all stressed. It’s fine.”

Hank tenses beside me. Our fight is still fresh.

“You two good?” Ethan’s question is straightforward. No bullshit, no dancing around the subject.

Hank and I exchange a look. The hurt is still there, the anger still simmering under the surface, but underneath all of that are years of shared missions, shared women, and shared everything that matters.

“We’re good,” Hank confirms, his voice carrying the kind of certainty that ends discussions.

“Good enough to work together?” Walt asks, arms still crossed.

Hank and I exchange another look, both of us shrugging at the same time.

“Yeah, sure. We’re fine. Let’s go.”

Ethan’s expression is unreadable. As Charlie team leader, he’s been holding everything together while Hank and I figure out our shit. The weight of that responsibility shows in the tension around his eyes.

“I’m ready to work.” I roll my shoulders, feeling some of the coiled tension start to release. Being here, surrounded by the team, with a concrete mission ahead of us—this is what I need. Action instead of analysis. Movement instead of sitting around thinking about all the ways we failed to protect Ally and the others.

The ocean breeze picks up, carrying the scent of kelp and salt spray. Above us, seagulls continue their raucous conversations, diving toward the rocks below where the surf crashes in endless rhythm. The sound should be soothing, but it just reminds me of the morning Ally stood on our deck, wrapped in one of my shirts, watching the waves roll in.

Mitzy suddenly straightens, her tools clattering as she shoves them back into the kit. When she turns to face us, her expression is unreadable behind safety glasses that have definitely seen better days.

“Well?” Ethan’s patience has its limits, and we’ve apparently reached them.

Mitzy pulls off the glasses, revealing eyes that are bright with discovery and something else—something that makes my skin crawl with anticipation.

“You boys ready for a field trip?” She gestures toward the gondola with a grin that’s equal parts excitement and menace. “Because we’re going down to the beach.”

“What did you find?” Brady steps forward, his team leader instincts demanding answers.

Mitzy’s grin widens, and she loads her tools back into their case. “Questions later. Right now, you all need to pair up and get in the gondola. Two by two, like a very tactical Noah’s ark.”

“Mitzy—” I start, but she cuts me off with a wave.