Page 87 of Tag (The Golden Team #9)

Aponi

T he room was dim, lit only by the pale glow of the tablet as I sat curled on the couch, staring at my own name on that roster like it belonged to someone else.

Isabelle Hartman.

I hadn’t said that name aloud in over a decade. I’d buried her, deep.

But Chimera hadn’t forgotten.

And now they’d resurfaced with an entire map of devastation—names of missing girls, hidden codes, and a plan that went far beyond one trafficking ring. This was systemic. Organized. Weaponized.

Tag stood behind me, a hand on my shoulder, his thumb moving in slow, calming circles. He hadn’t said much since the file opened—just anchored me with his presence. It was enough. More than I ever thought I’d get.

Faron dropped into the seat across from us, rubbing a hand over his face.

“We’ve got teams pulling surveillance from every camera around Bastion Point.

Gideon’s cross-referencing the names from the drive.

Kaylie and Gage are scraping the dark web for any links to Chimera.

But…” He exhaled. “They were ten steps ahead of us. We’re still playing catch-up. ”

“Then we stop playing,” I said, lifting my gaze. “We hit them first.”

Faron looked at me. “Based on what?”

I tapped the screen, zooming in on one of the webbed diagrams. “This location here. It’s in New Mexico. Middle of nowhere, but I remember it. Or at least... I think I do.”

Tag crouched beside me again, eyes locked on mine. “What do you mean?”

I looked at him, heart pounding. “I think I was there. Before my mom left me she took me on a trip. I think it was here. She took me to a remote camp for ‘training.’ It was run by people I didn’t recognize—he called them ‘the ones who make kings and break queens.’ I thought it was just some over the head crap.

But now... I remember one of the guards wore this patch.

” I tapped the screen again. A hexagon. Black with a silver eye.

Tag’s whole body tensed. “You sure?”

“Positive,” I said. “It was stitched into his vest. I didn’t know what it meant back then, but now... I think it was Chimera’s mark.”

Faron leaned forward, eyes sharp. “If that memory’s real, and that camp still exists—we’ve got a lead.”

“I can draw you a map,” I said. “I remember the way the air smelled. The rock formations. The road in. It was hell. But it burned into my memory. She left me there alone. i tried calling her and begging her to come and get me, but she ignored me.”

“So I left. I walked out in the middle of night, and hitched hiked my way home. when I got there she was gone. I stayed there until CPS came for me. They asked me where my mom was. I said she must be dead because she never came home.”

Tag stood up, already pacing. “We don’t go in soft. No surveillance drones, no advance warning. They’re watching us like we’re watching them.”

“So we go loud?” Faron asked.

“No,” Tag said. “We go smart. Quiet insertion, blackout gear, EMP tech. We hit them where it hurts. We get those girls out.”

I stood too, every nerve buzzing. “And I’ll go with you.”

Tag whipped around. “Hell no.”

I crossed my arms. “You need someone who’s been inside. Someone who knows the layout—what it feels like. You want to find that camp? You need me.”

“Aponi—”

I stepped closer. “Don’t you dare try to protect me now. I survived Chimera once. I’ll burn them to the ground.”

Tag stared at me, chest heaving.

Then finally… he nodded.

“Then we do it together.”