Page 59 of Whisper

I rise, grab my phone off the counter.

“You need what? A laptop? Tablet? Power cords?”

She blinks—surprised. Looks down, like she’s just now realizing she has nothing.

“Yes, please. A laptop, if you have one.”

I nod once and cross to the sideboard, flip open the gear bag. Pull out the slim black laptop I pre-loaded before the op—secure, firewalled, stripped clean except for tools she’ll need.

Drop it on the table in front of her.

“Yours,” I say. “No connection to the outside. Local only. Runs clean.”

She looks at it as if I just handed her the keys to a weaponized vault.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” My voice drops. “Whatever’s on that drive, I want you to find it first.”

Her throat moves as she swallows. “Thank you.”

I nod. Nothing more.

Then, “I’ll be in the other room.”

She gives me a look I can’t quite read. Like she wants to say something but doesn’t know how.

So I don’t wait.

I walk out—leaving her with the tools, the silence, and the fire we both haven’t finished lighting.

In the bedroom, I leave the door cracked. In case she needs me.

I call Ghost. He answers on the first ring.

“Status,” Ghost demands.

“We’re in,” I say. “Safe house secure. Perimeter quiet.”

“You good?”

“Package intact. No tails. No contact since the Metro. What’s our extraction window?”

“Forty-eight to seventy-two hours.”

“Damn. Long time to wait.”

A pause.

“We’re working on extraction protocols. Something Phoenix can’t track.”

“Makes sense.”

“How’s the target?”

I glance toward the hall. Still quiet. Still her.

“She’s working,” I say.