Page 32 of Skull

“You know what your boss does to people who disappoint her,” she said, her voice calm, almost conversational. “You disappear. You don’t get a second chance.”

Blade scoffed. “And you think you’re any different?”

Walker leaned forward, resting her hands on the metal table between them. “Yes.” She let the silence settle before continuing. “Because I can get your family out before she does something brutally tragic.”

That made him blink. Just once. But it was enough.

“You think she won’t go after them the second she finds out you’re missing?” she pressed. “You have a wife. Two kids.” She opened the folder and set out three photos. His wife Lupe, a dark-haired beauty with fine brown eyes like the salt of the earth, delicate features, and a winsome smile, but there was something else in those disarming eyes—steel. The second picture was of a little boy of about six, his smile was all his mother’s, but he’d inherited his father’s good looks, the high cheekbones, and blue eyes. The last photo even melted Walker’s hard heart. A little girl, so cute with her gap-toothed smile and the charming tilt of her head. The dark pigtails had pink ribbons tied on the ends. She was simply adorable, and the inevitability of what was going to happen to her twisted Walker’s gut into knots.

“I’m sure Lupe is smart.” Walker tapped his wife’s photo. “But smart isn’t enough when you’re on Pincho’s bad side.” She then tapped the little boy’s and the girl’s photos in turn. “Ramon and Musica don’t stand a chance against Pincho’s death squad, and we both know that she will be sending them into Lealtad once she hears you’re missing.”

His jaw tightened, his gaze flickering downward for a fraction of a second, looking at the photos, the heartbreak, the horrible decision mirrored in his eyes. It was clear he loved his family, and that was going to be the linchpin Walker and the team needed to flip him, to get to Hazard and Leigh before it was too late for them as well. The first crack in the armor.

“We can protect them,” she said. “New names. New lives. They’ll never have to look over their shoulders again.”

Blade exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “No.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t believe in anyone,” he muttered. “Especially not the CIA.”

Walker sighed, pacing to the other side of the table. She crouched beside his chair, lowering her voice. “You don’t have to trust me. But I’m the only shot they’ve got. You talk, and they walk away from this. You keep playing tough, and your boss makes an example of them.”

Another silence. This one stretched longer. He swallowed, tension visible in every muscle of his body as he squeezed his eyes closed, a soft, mournful sound releasing in his throat.

Blade’s eyes burned with defiance when he opened them, but there was something else in them now, a flicker of fear he was trying to bury under the weight of his pride. He wasn’t an easy break. That was expected. The ones at his level never were. But everyone had a threshold, and Walker was patient enough to find his.

Finally, he spoke. “I’ll talk.” His voice was low, reluctant.

Walker stood, arms loose at her sides. “Good.” She went back to her chair opposite him and sat down, resting her elbows on the table.

“But not until they’re out.” He lifted his head, eyes locking onto hers with a desperate, steely intensity. “Not until I know they’re safe.”

“That’s another roadblock, Blade, and you’re running out of options.” Her voice was steady, almost gentle, but there was no warmth in it.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, staring at the tabletop. “I told you. I don’t talk until they’re safe.”

“And I told you, that’s not how this works.” Hummingbird leaned forward, hands clasped together. “You don’t get to dictate terms.”

Blade clenched his jaw, shaking his head. “You expect me to just take your word for it?” He scoffed, lifting his gaze to hers. “You expect me to believe that you, the CIA, actually care about what happens to them?”

Walker tilted her head slightly, studying him. “I don’t need you to believe anything. I just need you to understand reality.” She let a long pause stretch between them before continuing. “You think you’re protecting them by holding out?” she asked. “By resisting? You’re not.” She let the words sink in, watching as his fingers twitched against the cuffs. “All you’re doing is making sure they stay right where they are—exposed, vulnerable, waiting for your boss to realize you’re not coming back.”

Blade’s breathing had changed, just slightly, but she noticed. He was thinking about it now, really thinking about it.

“You know how this plays out,” she pressed. “Pincho won’t wait long. she’ll send her men to Lealtad. And when they don’t find you, what do you think happens next?”

Blade didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

Walker leaned back in her chair, keeping her expression unreadable. “You hold out, and they never leave. You resist, and you doom them to whatever comes next. And for what?” She shook her head. “To prove a point?”

Blade’s fingers curled into fists. His breathing was heavier now.

She stood slowly, taking her time as she circled the table, stopping behind him. Her voice dropped to something softer, more insidious. “You want to be the reason they don’t make it out? You know what Pincho will do to them, don’t you? Picture that in your mind.”

His entire body went rigid. She could feel the war raging inside him, the stubbornness crashing against the truth he didn’t want to face.

She placed a hand on the back of his chair and bent slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re running out of time. Make your choice. Your family and a new life to live free and safe from repercussions. I’d say the choice has already been made.”

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