Chapter 2 - The Ghost of Red Squadron
Voss walked slowly across the asphalt, his polished shoes stepping around potholes like he was navigating a minefield. He wore civilian clothes—dark slacks, a collared shirt—but the posture was military.
“Callie Mercer,” he said, stopping ten feet away.
“Colonel,” I answered.
My hand stayed at my side. The keys were still tucked between my fingers. June, the girl I had been protecting—a runaway I’d met in the breakroom—shifted behind me. I felt her weight move. She was preparing to run, and I could not blame her.
“You look well,” Voss said.
“You look old.”
“Still sharp.”
“Still waiting for answers.”
Voss scanned the men writhing on the ground. “You haven't lost your touch. Though, leaving a trail of broken bones is hardly the ‘invisible’ life you promised the agency you’d lead.”
“I didn't pick this fight, Colonel.”
“No,” he conceded. “But you finished it. That’s the problem with people like us, Callie. We don't know how to stop at ‘good enough.’ We only know how to neutralize.”
He glanced at June, then back at me. His eyes turned icy. “She’s the reason, isn't she? The girl. You’re not hiding from the enemy anymore. You’re protecting a witness.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. June wasn't just a runaway. She was the daughter of a Senator who had been liquidated by the same shadow group that had betrayed my team in the orchard six years ago.
May you like
“Leave us alone, Voss,” I said, my voice low and dangerous.
“I can’t do that,” he replied. “The people who signed your discharge papers? They’re the same ones who ordered the hit on her father. They know I’m here. And they know you’re alive.”
