Page 39 of Tag
And not just anyone—someone who knew how to hide things from Special Forces.
I yanked it free and crushed it beneath my boot just as the back window of the cabin shattered.
CRACK!
“Sniper!” I shouted, diving for the ground. “MOVE!”
Aponi tackled Tag off the porch. We rolled down the slope behind the cabin, landing hard in the scrub.
Another shot ripped through the railing, splintering it into pieces.
Tag pulled her against his chest, shielding Aponi while I crawled to cover and scanned the ridge.
Nothing.
Too clean. Too far.
Whoever was out there wasn’t sloppy. They were surgical.
Professional.
“Graves hired someone,” I called.
“No,” Aponi said, breathless. “He didn’t hire someone. Heunleashedsomeone.”
Tag’s jaw clenched. “You think it’s Project Redwood?”
I met his eyes. “I think it just found us.”
30
Tag
I’d hoped I’d never hear the name again.
Sable.
Her codename had been classified even among our team. A black ops asset—lethal, untraceable, and perfectly conditioned for one purpose:
Elimination.
And once, a lifetime ago… she’d saved my life.
Now she was the one trying to end it.
Gideon’s voice crackled over the sat comm. “Confirmation just came in. Graves activated Project Redwood. The asset’s name is unknown, but her facial profile hits 93% match with your 2016 Kabul extract. You knew her as Sable.”
I closed my eyes, the memory cutting in sharp and fast.
Sable in the smoke, blood on her hands, dragging me out of a collapsed compound. Her whisper in my ear:
“You owe me one, Tag.”
Now she was cashing it in with a bullet.
“She doesn’t miss,” I said quietly.
Aponi’s head snapped toward me. “What?”
