Page 22 of Enticing Kane

“You know,” Maggie said softly, her voice almost a whisper, “I never told you much about my family. About why I became an archaeologist.”

Kane glanced down at her, surprised by the sudden shift in the conversation. “No, you haven’t. But I’d like to hear it.”

Maggie smiled faintly; her eyes distant as she spoke. “My family... they’re ranchers, law enforcement, people who live by a certain code. But I always felt different. I loved history, the stories of the past, the idea that there was so much more to the world than what we could see. My parents were supportive, but I think they never really understood my fascination. They wanted me to stay close, to be safe.”

She paused, taking a deep breath. “But then they died. It was a freak accident on the ranch. I was away when it happened, and I never got the chance to say goodbye. After that, I threw myself into my work. I thought that if I could just make a difference, if I could uncover something important, it would all be worth it. But now... now I’m not so sure.”

Kane felt a pang of sympathy as he listened to her story, understanding all too well the pain of loss and the drive to make something of it. He had his own ghosts, his own reasons for the choices he had made, and hearing Maggie open up like this made him feel even closer to her.

“I’m sorry, Maggie, but you have the rest of your family,” he said quietly, his voice filled with genuine regret. “I know what it’s like to lose people you care about. It changes you, makes you see the world differently.”

Maggie looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “How do you keep going, Kane? How do you stay strong when everything feels like it’s falling apart?”

Kane met her gaze, feeling a lump form in his throat. “I don’t know if it’s about staying strong. It’s about surviving, about doing what you have to do to get through it. And sometimes, it’s about finding something—or someone—to hold on to.”

Maggie’s expression softened, and she reached up to cup his cheek, her touch gentle and reassuring. “I’m glad you’re here, Kane. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Kane leaned into her touch, closing his eyes for a moment as he savored the connection between them. “I’m glad I’m here, too, Maggie. And I’m not going anywhere.”

They sat together in the fading light, holding on to each other as the world outside continued to turn. Kane knew that this moment of peace was fleeting, that the storm was still coming, but for now, he let himself be in the present, with Maggie.

The next morning, Kane awoke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the canvas of the tent. Maggie was still asleep beside him, her head resting on his chest, her breathing slow and steady. He lay still, not wanting to disturb her, his mind replaying the events of the night before.

They had shared more than just their stories. The connection between them had deepened, and as the night wore on, they had found comfort in each other’s arms, their fears and doubts melting away in the heat of their passion. It had been more than just physical—it had been a release, an affirmation that they were still alive, still capable of feeling something beyond the constant fear and tension.

Kane brushed a strand of hair away from Maggie’s face, his heart aching with a tenderness he hadn’t felt in years. He knew that whatever happened next, this moment would stay with him, a bright spot in the darkness.

But the peace was short-lived.

There was a rustling outside the tent, followed by the sound of voices—too many voices, and one in particular that made Kane’s blood run cold.

Colonel Carter. Not what they needed. Like Langley, Carter and his men had a bad habit of moving in and out of the dig site. When questioned, the Colonel had explained that this dig was not the only thing they were keeping an eye on.

Kane’s body tensed as he gently slid out from under Maggie, careful not to wake her. He quickly dressed, his mind racing as he prepared himself for whatever was coming. The Colonel had been keeping a low profile since the incident with Langley, but Kane had always suspected that there was more to Carter than met the eye.

He stepped outside, his eyes narrowing as he spotted Carter approaching with two armed soldiers at his side. The Colonel’s face was set in a grim mask, his eyes cold and calculating.

“Kane,” Carter said, his voice clipped and authoritative. “We need to talk.”

Kane didn’t respond immediately, his gaze flicking to the soldiers before returning to Carter. He could sense the tension in the air, the way the men held their rifles just a little too tightly, their stances a little too rigid.

“What’s going on, Carter?” Kane asked, his tone neutral but wary.

Carter didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I’ve received new orders,” he said bluntly. “The artifact is to be secured immediately and transported to a secure location. This dig is over, Chaplin. We’re taking control.”

Kane’s heart sank as the full implication of Carter’s words hit him. “Seizing control? What are you talking about? We’ve worked to secure this artifact, to protect it from falling into the wrong hands.”

Carter’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in his gaze. “And that’s exactly what we’re doing. My orders come from above, from people who understand the significance of this find. We can’t afford to let it stay here, unprotected. Syria is too unstable.”

Kane’s mind raced as he processed Carter’s words. He had suspected that there was more to this mission, that Carter was playing a different game, but this was worse than he had imagined. If Carter was working for the CIA or worse, for some shadowy organization, the artifact could be used for purposes far more dangerous than they had ever anticipated.

“And what about Maggie?” Kane asked, his voice low and controlled, though his anger was simmering just beneath the surface. “What happens to her?”

Carter’s expression didn’t change. “Dr. Dillon will be debriefed, of course. She’ll be taken care of. You need to follow my orders, Chaplin.”

Taken care of. The words sent a chill down Kane’s spine. He knew what that meant—Maggie would be silenced, her work co-opted, her life reduced to nothing more than a footnote in someone else’s agenda.

Kane’s hand instinctively moved to the sidearm at his belt, his fingers brushing against the cool metal. He had to make a choice, and he had to make it now. He was no longer a member of the military. The only orders he followed now were those issued by Fitzwallace, who had assigned him the task of protecting Maggie. If he needed, Cerberus would move in and extract the whole lot of them despite the cost and regardless of the consequences. His decision was made in an instant.

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