Page 38

Kat pushed the blanket off her lap and shut the laptop, its screen still glowing with flight maps and infiltration routes.

Jeff chirped in protest as she stood, then flopped sideways with theatrical flair to claim the warm dent she’d left behind.

She ran a hand through her hair, her mind already in motion.

Philippines. Surveillance logistics. Extraction options.

She didn’t need sleep. She needed a plan.

Voices drifted from the kitchen—low and threaded with laughter.

She padded across the floorboards barefoot and pushed open the door.

“Leonid, I’ve found?—”

She stopped cold, pulse catching. The air was charged, danger dressed as family.

She found Leo instantly—leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, his steady gaze finding hers like a lock catching clean.

No nod. No smile. Just his presence.

She didn’t know how badly she needed that look until it landed.

She exhaled once, and let her focus widen.

Six men filled the kitchen space. Tactical blacks. Combat-hardened frames relaxed but ready. Weapons rested on the table. Sidearms cleared and safetied. Magazines stacked with precision. A suppressed rifle lay open, field-stripped and half-reassembled.

Operators.

Men the world never officially sent—or got back.

Loyalty made absolute. Guardsmen Security.

Leo’s team. The full unit.

The kitchen felt suddenly too small for what they brought with them. Loyalty, weapons, war.

Eli sat at the near end of the table, a sleek tablet glowing in front of him. He rose at the sound of her voice.

“There she is.” His voice held Leo’s accent, but tempered by warmth.

He crossed to her in three strides, his handshake firm. “Good to see you in one piece, Kat.”

“Eli. When did you get here? All of you?”

“An hour ago,” he said with a crooked grin. “Give or take.”

“I didn’t know?—”

Eli’s glance at Leo carried years of brotherly understanding. “We don’t ask permission.” His attention swung back to her and he spread his hands. “Leo’s fight is ours. And…yours is his. So here we are.”

They’d dropped everything. For Leo. For her.

Her throat constricted, too full for anything but the smallest breath.

“Bea would’ve come,” Eli added, softer now. “But with Noah… she couldn’t. She sends her love.”

“How is the baby?” she managed.

A glow rose in his face. “Growing too fast. That mobile you sent? Noah’s obsessed. He’s already got the Bychkov scowl.” His glance at Leo was mock-accusatory.

Leo gave a soft grunt.

Zak stepped forward, wiping his hand on a dish towel.

“Kat. Alina sends her love.” His grin reached the intense set of his eyes as he gave her a brief hug.

He pointed to a plate of pastries. “Brock made me try these. What are they again?”

“Eccles cakes,” Brock muttered, appearing behind him with a jug of milk. “British culinary history in a flaky shell.”

Zak shrugged, unrepentant, and grabbed another. “They’re great,” he said around a mouthful. “Even if they look like someone sat on them.”

He swallowed, and the ease drained from his face. “It’s time to end this. Time to end everything Raptor has touched.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Fox set down the cloth he’d been running over a bolt carrier. His sleeves were rolled to the elbow, ink crawling over forearms better suited to a back-alley brawler than a Duke.

“Looking gorgeous as ever, Landon.” He tossed her a wink, then flicked a glance at Leo. “Someone’s been taking care of business.”

Kat smiled. “Fox. Still disappointing the King, I see.”

He grinned. “Daily.” But the light in his eyes dimmed fast. “Leo’s filled us in. I’m so sorry about your friend, Jane.”

Jane’s name hit like a bruise pressed too hard.

She nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you. It’s been... a long few days.”

The brief quiet that followed wasn’t memory. It was respect.

Then Griff unfolded from his chair, all six-foot-four of mountain muscle and contained power. “Good to see you again, Landon—though I’d prefer less dramatic circumstances.”

“Me too.” She rubbed the back of her neck, weary but grateful. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Better. Thanks for asking.” His expression darkened. “Jo saw the news. Traitor?” He shook his head, jaw tight. “Bullshit.”

Her head dropped, the joy of seeing them diluted by the cold press of reality. It’s fixable. Right?

Abe gripped her hand between both of his—calm and commanding.

His handshake was careful, a study in controlled strength. “Freya sends word. She knows you’ll handle this.”

“How is she?”

“Brilliant. Currently running an ethics conference on neural tech.” His mouth compressed. Freya had barely survived her own run-in with Korolov. “Making sure the science matters.”

“Thank you.” The words were too small. “All of you.”

Eli’s hand touched her arm. “You said you found something.”

Not a question. He’d been listening.

“Yes.” Kat moved to Brock’s terminal in his dining nook. The glow of the screen lit her face as she moved the mouse. “I’ve found the second site.”

She took a breath, centering herself as Leo positioned himself close by. “Arken’s accounts were clean on the surface. Underneath—shell companies, offshore routing. Gage got us that far.” The connections mapped across the screen. “But follow the money...”

She hit a key, and a satellite image swept across the screen. Dense jungle, jagged coastline, shadowed edges blurred by cloud cover.

“… and it leads here. El Nido, Palawan.”

She zoomed in and highlighted the facility.

“Cliffs, isolated coves, inaccessible. One narrow access road. Perfect for hiding something you didn’t want found.” She dropped back against her chair back. “The London site is down. This one’s still hot. Forty-eight hours until launch.”

Leo’s recognition was instant. “The Arken Institute?”

“Yes. Same accounts receiving Korolov’s payments,” she confirmed.

“Why would Eldridge be involved?” Griff asked.

“I don’t know.” She tapped the screen. “But the answers are there.”

Leo’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. The weight of it calmed her.

This wasn’t over. Not yet.

She made eye contact with the team. “Nightshade needs to be shut down at its source. Before the signal goes live.”

“Transport’s covered.” Fox already had his phone out. “Private airfield, Essex. We can be wheels up in three hours.”

“Gear?” Gage’s voice, clipped and calm.

“En route,” Eli answered, not missing a beat.

The room shifted into motion—no hesitation, no talk of jurisdiction, no one asking permission.

Her eyes met Leo’s.

Something sparked in her chest—fierce and bright.

But this wasn’t the moment to name it. Not yet.

Not when there was a war to end.

Whatever was coming, she wouldn’t face it alone.

And this time, she was ready.