Page 71 of Echoes and Oaths
Jinx exhaled as he dropped into a seat, body humming with adrenaline.
"Mission accomplished," Brando said through the headset, satisfaction in his voice.
Z clapped Jinx’s shoulder and leaned close. "You know, for a guy who doesn’t talk much, you throw one hell of a party."
In the cabinof the aircraft they’d transferred to, the inside buzzed with low light and the faint hum ofaircraft systems. Outside, storm clouds rolled beneath the plane, but inside, the air was charged with the weight of finality.
Jinx stood at one end of the mission table, arms folded, boots planted, blood and smoke still marking him. Across from him, Fury, their handler, could be seen on the monitor. The silence was sharp enough to draw blood.
Z, casually leaning in a chair nearby with his boots kicked up on a metal crate, chewed a protein bar.
“Esteban Ortega is confirmed dead,” Fury said, breaking the silence. His tone was cool, clipped. “And with him, the man known asEl Fantasmais gone, too. Tomás was also confirmed dead. The recording Brando sent us was enough to close the mission.”
Fury tapped the edge of a tablet. Satellite images flickered across the center screen. They saw scorched jungle, cratered walls, wrecked SUVs.
“The aftermath,” Fury continued. “Z, what you delivered was a full-scale incineration of a cartel stronghold and half its fighting force. Clean, yes. Loud as hell? Also, yes.”
Jinx didn’t blink. “We were thorough. Both targets are down.”
“You were theatrical,” Fury snapped, though a ghost of a grin twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Somebody will be cleaning up the political fallout for weeks.”
Z raised a hand. “Just for the record,hepulled the trigger.Imade the fireworks. And they were beautiful.” He flicked his fingers into the air, mimicking an explosion. “Gorgeous, mate. Simply gorgeous.”
Fury gave him a dry look. “I don’t care if you wrote a sonnet while you were at it. What matters is the blowback.” He shrugged. “Or so they told me to tell you.”
He zoomed in on thermal satellite footage from earlier. “Half of Esteban’s men are dead. The others scattered. Local militias are already poking around the ruins. Every cartel within a thousand miles now knows there’s a leadership void. However, the government has taken the initiative to move their asses into the area to protect the route from being used again. We’ll see how long that lasts.”
“Until someone wants their palms greased,” Jinx said.
Fury’s eyes narrowed, and he studied Jinx for a long moment, then slowly nodded. “Esteban was the most elusive cartel tactician we’ve seen in a decade. Politically untouchable. Invisible on paper. Youneutralized him and lit a fuse under his entire network.” He paused, tapping the tablet again. “The Council is pleased. So is the brass.” He exhaled. “Good work. Your report’s due in twenty-four hours. The debrief file’s already open.”
The screen went black, leaving a charged silence in his wake.
Z pulled his boots down and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You know, for an op, that was kinda poetic. Big boom. Bad guy down. You get the girl?”
“Not yet,” he said finally. “But I’m heading home, and I’m marrying her.”
The plane’sinterior thrummed with a low, steady vibration. The quiet kind that seeped into your bones and dulled the edge of adrenaline, leaving only the fatigue beneath. Outside, the darkness was total. There were no stars, and no lights, just the long, invisible path home.
Jinx sat alone in the dim compartment near the rear bulkhead. His head was tilted back against the cool wall. He hadn’t moved in almost an hour. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t seeing anything.
“You know,” a voice said from the aisle, “you missed one hell of a birthday party.”
Jinx didn’t turn his head.
Z dropped into the seat across from him, uninvited but not unwelcome. He set a half-sandwich on the armrest and leaned forward, forearms on his knees, elbows wide.
“The whole team was there. Specter even showed up and brought that spiked Russian punch he makes. Viper got so drunk he tried to arm-wrestle Phantom.”
Jinx exhaled softly through his nose. “Hope someone filmed that.”
“Oh, we did. Played it on loop until the comms guys threatened to break the monitors.” Z’s grin faded slightly. “But you weren’t there.”
A long silence passed between them. The only sound was the distant murmur of engine turbines and the occasional metallic creak of the aircraft hull adjusting to altitude.
“Didn’t feel like celebrating,” Jinx finally said.
Z nodded slowly. “I figured. Still, I noticed.”
