TWENTY-TWO
By the timeOlive and Jason came back inside, the air in the great room had changed. The scent of something warm drifted from the kitchen—something with apples and cinnamon maybe—but it did little to mask the tension that hung thick as smoke in the inn.
Mara stood in the kitchen, ladling what appeared to be oatmeal from some type of portable burner into mismatched bowls. “Everyone needs to eat something. We’re no good to anyone on empty stomachs.”
Reluctantly, they obeyed. Chairs scraped across the wood floor as the team gathered around the fire. The flicker of the flames painted weary faces in shifting gold and shadow.
Michael sat apart from the rest, hunched forward on the edge of a chair, a bowl of oatmeal cupped in his hands. He ate quietly, eyes down, but even Olive felt the weight of everyone watching him.
No one was relaxed. Not even close.
When Bradford and Rachel leaned close for a private conversation, Mitzi finally spoke. She kept her tone low so the strangers wouldn’t hear.
“You didn’t just owe someone a favor, Rex,” she whispered. “You endangered all of us.”
Olive’s eyes widened. Though she was upset with Rex, she still knew her place. Rex was her boss, and people didn’t speak to their bosses like this. Well, most people didn’t.
Mitzi was the exception.
Rex had always been good to her and, even though he’d made a bad judgment call, part of her understood.
That said, Mitzi had worked for Rex much longer than she had, so their relationship was different—maybe more personal.
Rex set his bowl aside, his expression unreadable. “I made an executive decision.”
“You made abadone,” she shot back. “You brought a wanted man into an isolated mountain lodge in the middle of a snowstorm. What did you think would happen?”
Jason leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Mitzi’s not wrong. You should have told us what was going on.”
The issue was clearly still on everyone’s minds.
Rex’s jaw flexed. “And what would you have done in my shoes? Left him to die? I did what I thought was right.”
“And now JJ is dead.” Nova’s voice shook. “Is Michael more important than JJ?”
“The biotech he’s developing could change military warfare as we know it,” Rex said, his voice strangely calm. “So, no, he’s not more important. But I can’t let the wrong people get their hands on what he’s developing. It could be detrimental.”
“Detrimental to what?” Trick asked.
“For lack of a better word—to world peace.”
Rex’s words hung in the room.
Silence fell again. The fire popped, spitting a spark up the chimney.
Trick cleared his throat before quietly saying, “Look, arguing isn’t helping anyone. The storm’s easing up. Once it clearscompletely, we’ll find Warren and get Michael somewhere safe. We just have to stay calm.”
The tone was meant to soothe, but something about it grated on Olive’s nerves. He almost sounded too practiced, too measured. His eyes moved from person to person like he was taking inventory, not offering comfort.
Olive’s gaze shifted to Rachel, who sat beside Bradford, warming her hands on the bowl of oatmeal. As those two finished their conversation, everyone put on their best game faces again. Those two didn’t ned to know all of this.
Rachel’s own face was pale, almost drawn, and she kept glancing toward the window, as if she was anxious to get away from here.
Olive couldn’t blame her.
The room fell quiet.
Then—
