Page 25 of The Foreman
Macy nodded. “Yep. My dad was DPS. He taught me to shoot a 9mm when I was sixteen. I keep my license current. I finished a defensive pistol course last year. I am fine.”
"Good. Then let’s make some noise."
Everyone moved at once.
Jesse handed Macy a drive. "This holds the original metadata. The log was tampered with, but the file's ghost signature is still intact. You can prove your innocence if we trace it back."
Macy stared at the data. It felt surreal—evidence of betrayal, conspiracy, her entire life twisted into a weapon against her. But when she looked up, Trace was watching her with something fierce in his eyes. Not just protective. Committed.
He stepped closer. "We don’t wait for them to hit us again. We move now. We rip this thing wide open."
She touched his arm. "You sure you want in?"
His hand covered hers. "You came to us for help. You’re in danger. That makes it my fight."
She swallowed, heat curling through her. "That’s a hell of a declaration, cowboy."
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "I meant every word."
Trace watched Macy let out a shaky breath, her posture shifting as the weight of their conversation landed. This wasn’t just about clearing her name—not anymore. He could see it in the set of her jaw, the glint of steely defiance in her eyes. This was about dismantling a machine that consumed people like her without hesitation. Chet. The senator. Meridian. Nexus. All of it. And now, it had a target on her back.
Trace turned to the team. "We move within the hour. Start a full scrub on every contact Haines has made in the last six months—phone records, travel logs, financial transfers, everything. I want every handshake, every donation, and every meeting cross-checked. If she so much as blinked funny, I want it flagged."
A nearby workstation let out a sharp tone, and the overhead lights dimmed briefly as the room shifted into partial lockdown. A secondary alert rolled across the main screen indicating a false alarm from the eastern compound perimeter. The ops team glanced up.
"Was that a test run?" Trace asked, his voice cold.
Thompson’s fingers danced over the keyboard. "Looks like it. System picked it up and reset automatically. We’re good to go whenever you’re ready."
Jesse’s jaw ticked. This system was his baby. Then, he turned back to the team, his tone harder now. "Good. Keep eyes sharp. They’re probing our systems. I want our firewall locked down tighter than a drum before we go offensive."
Macy blinked. "Did Jesse just make a metaphor? Should we be worried?"
Trace gave her a sideways glance. "It's a sign of the apocalypse."
They got the gear ready to go and loaded into the SUV. Trace moved like a man who’d done this a thousand times. Tactical vest. Comms. Weapons. Calm. Deadly. But Macy caught the quick shift in his gaze when she reached for her own gear, the subtle tightening of his jaw betraying a sliver of worry he didn’t quite hide.
Trace watched as Macy adjusted the vest so she wouldn’t have to once they were on site. She tightened one of the side buckles with a quick, decisive tug. It fit snug and solid, a tangible reminder that she was in this now, whether he liked it or not. Removing it she added it to her other gear.
Their eyes met briefly. "Don’t go soft on me now, McRae. I can handle myself."
He stepped close, cupping her face for a heartbeat. "I know. That’s the only reason I'm letting you come along."
"The only reason?" she teased. "And here I thought it was because you couldn’t stand the idea of being away from me."
Trace snorted, and before she could answer, Jesse returned.
"We got something. An encrypted message routed through three blind servers. Origin point: Meridian. Subject line reads, ‘Shut her up.’"
Macy stiffened.
Trace took the tablet. His jaw flexed. "They just made it personal."
The team was prepped, ready to move, but Trace lingered by the door.
He turned to Macy. "From here on out, you never leave my sight. Got it?"
He wanted to lock her behind steel and call it strategy. It was not strategy. It was fear. The last time he chose protection over partnership, a team member died with her eyes on him. If he tried to cage Macy now, he would lose her a slower way.
