Page 71 of Honor Code

"Okay, stay put, and I'll be in touch."

They said goodbye, and Ellie hung up.

"How's that?" She glanced at Phoenix, whose eyes were shining.

"You did great."

"Brilliant," agreed Pat. "Now let's hope she gets in touch with your crooked boss."

"I feel bad using her." Ellie bit her lip.

Boomer nodded. "Me too."

"It's the only way." Phoenix reached for his beer. "At least now we've planted the seed. We'll hide in Ellie's chalet and wait for them to arrive. When they do, we'll catch them red-handed."

"What about me?" Ellie asked.

"You'll be in our room, out of harm's way," Phoenix said, decisively. Ellie knew there was no point in arguing with him. She'd done her part, now it was over to them. There was nobody more capable than these four men. If they couldn't take down the next hit squad Gilded Futures sent after her, then nobody could.

CHAPTER 31

It was a warm, quiet night. Phoenix couldn't even hear a rustle from the trees on the golf course surrounding the cabin. It would make it easier to hear them coming.

They'd used a simple trick, scattered Rice Krispies around the perimeter so they'd hear when the bad guys approached. Phoenix was inside the cabin, while Pat and Blade flanked it, and Boomer was hidden out of sight further down the road to provide early warning if anyone approached.

Now it was just a waiting game.

Time stretched endlessly, but on ops like this, it always did. He remembered once waiting nearly forty-eight hours for a high-value target to show at a remote compound in the arid outskirts of Kandahar. The target was a terrorist known for orchestrating devastating attacks across the region.

Phoenix recalled how—as the hours ticked by—the landscape had transformed with the setting sun, casting long shadows over the dry and dusty Afghan terrain. It was during those twilight hours the target had finally appeared—and they'd taken him out.

The hardest part was staying focused for all that time, keeping your breathing steady despite the adrenaline pumping through your veins. It was like that now. Hunkered down behind the door, out of sight of the windows, not moving a muscle.

When the hostiles finally entered the cabin, he'd spring into action, backed up by Pat and Blade, with Boomer cutting off their escape route.

They'd asked the hotel for a manilla folder, which they'd filled with blank printer paper and placed on the coffee table in the center of the room. It was pretty obvious, but these guys would be expecting to find something, so they had to dangle the bait.

It would also draw their attention, meaning they'd be distracted, making it easier to subdue them.

"Don't take them out unless there's a clear and present danger," had been Pat's orders. They didn't engage in unnecessary use of force, no matter how tempting it might be. Phoenix gritted his teeth and thought back to how that one merc had held a gun to Ellie's head. He could still see the terror in her eyes, the tears running down her pale face.

A surge of something intensely protective gripped him, making him tense. He never wanted her to experience such fear again. Nobody should have to go through that, let alone after the trauma she'd suffered in her past.

Which was why they could never be together. Despite what had happened—was happening—between them, Phoenix knew it could only ever be temporary.

This was his life.

Hiding in shadows, taking out targets.

With him, she would always be afraid. If not for herself, then for him. Wondering if he was going to come home safely to her.

He couldn't do that to her.

Phoenix pushed the depressing thought to the back of his mind. There were things to do first before he had to cross that bridge. A hit squad to neutralize, and a corrupt organization to take down.

Then he heard it. The faint snap, crackle, and pop of the Rice Krispies. Simple, yet effective.

"Contact," he murmured into his comms. Pat had equipped them all with state-of-the-art earpieces for secure communication.

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