His gaze shifts to Wraith, the stone-cold killer who found a conscience.
He studies Bronco, the pilot who flies into hell for a friend.
He takes in Rook, the spy who seeks the truth.
He analyzes Cipher, the hacker who sees the code behind the lies.
And he looks at me. The man breaking the rules for a woman.
“We took an oath.” Hutch rests his hands on the console. “To protect.”
He looks at Iris.
“Dr. Kincaid. You’re the primary witness. You’re the only one who can tie the body to the senator. If you walk away now. If you go into WITSEC, this ends. We can bury Thompson, but the network survives.”
“No.” It’s out of me before I can stop it. The room turns. “You’re asking her to be the one name every barcode in that ledger wants gone. Not for a trial. For the rest of her life. We put Thompson in a cell and we hang a target on her that never comes down.”
“You’re saying it like it’s a choice.” Rook doesn’t lift his voice. He never has to. “Mercer made her that name in the garage. WITSEC doesn’t erase it. It just takes away the team standing between her and the people who come looking.” That storm-grey gaze lands on me, not unkind. “The question isn’t whether she’s exposed. It’s whether she’s exposed with us, or alone in a condo in Boise with a panic button.”
I want to put my fist through the table. I want him to be wrong. He isn’t.
Iris doesn’t stand yet. “There was a nurse.” Her voice is flat, careful, a name she’s been carrying since the garage. “Maria Alvarez. She was in the bay. She saw the suits, the barcode, the needle. All of it.”
Hutch’s jaw works once. “Reassigned. Night float at a hospital in Pueblo, two days after, with a raise she never asked for and an NDA she didn’t get to read closely. Mercer’s people made the threat without making it.” He holds her gaze. “She’s frightened, and she’s breathing. We have someone watching her. If they move on her, we’ll know first.”
Something in Iris’s spine settles a single degree. She’d filed the woman under unfinished. Now she gets to file her under alive.
Iris stands.
She has the stillness of someone who has already made their reckoning.
She looks small in my hoodie, but she stands toe-to-toe with the Chief Marshal.
“I’m not walking away.” Her voice rings clear and steady. “I promised that boy I’d find out who did this to him. I intend to keep that promise.” She looks at me. “I’m not hiding.”
“We’re hunting.” I finish the vow.
Hutch nods. A slow, grim smile spreads across his face. He pulls a key from around his neck and inserts it into the console.
“Cipher. Isolate the server. Lock it down. Nothing goes in or out.”
“Done.” Cipher hits a key.
“Wraith. Bronco. Prep the gear. We need to find the distribution hub.”
“On it.” Bronco turns to the door.
“Rook. Build a profile on the Gemini Foundation. I want to know who sits on the board and where the money goes.”
“Already started.” Rook flips his folder shut, a sound like a gavel.
“Boyd.” Hutch turns to me. “You’re injured. You’re off field duty until that arm heals.”
“Like hell I am.” I step toward the console.
“You’re on protection detail.” Hutch corrects, his gaze flicking to Iris. “She stays here. You stay with her. You keep her safe while we find the targets.”
I look at Iris watching the screen displaying the faces of the lost.
