"There is no normal life after this. You know that." I hold his gaze. "I can either hide and look over my shoulder forever, or I can fight back. And I'd rather fight."
"You don't know what you're asking for."
"Then tell me. Make me understand why I should disappear instead of helping you finish this."
He runs a hand through his hair, frustration clear in every line of his body. "Because you'll become what I am. Someone who can't go home. Can't have normal relationships. Can't stop looking for threats in every room you enter. You'll lose pieces of yourself until you forget what normal even felt like."
"And you think witness protection is different?" I challenge. "A fake name in a city where I don't know anyone? Never using my skills again? Always wondering if the Committee would find me? That's not preserving who I am. That's killing who I am slowly instead of all at once."
"At least you'd be alive."
"Alive isn't the same as living. You said that yourself last night."
He opens his mouth. Closes it. I've caught him with his own words.
"You'd be a target. Permanently."
"You said that too. But the fact it, I'm already a target. At least this way I'm a target who's fighting back." I step closer. "And you know I'm right. Tactically. You need someone with my background. Someone who understands how the Bureau thinks, how they operate. Someone who can help you stay ahead of them."
Something shifts in his expression. The operator calculating odds, weighing assets.
"It's Kane's call," he finally says.
"But what's your call?" I press. "Do you want me to disappear? Or do you want me at your six?"
He holds my gaze for a long moment. Then, so quietly I almost miss it: "I want you alive."
"Then help me survive by teaching me to fight. Not by hiding me away where I'll always be looking over my shoulder."
He nods once, the decision made. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"But Delaney?" He holds my gaze. "This means no going back. You say yes to this, you're all in. No half measures. No second thoughts when it gets hard."
"I know."
He looks at me for another beat, then turns and continues toward the extraction point.
My heart hammers against my ribs. Not from fear. From the sudden certainty that I just made the most important decision of my life.
And I don't regret it.
We move through dense tree cover for another fifteen minutes. The terrain slopes downward, opening into a small clearing maybe a hundred meters across. Natural LZ—flat enough for a helicopter, surrounded by forest that provides approach cover.
Alex stops at the tree line, staying in shadow. Checks his watch. "Twenty minutes early. Good."
He pulls out the radio, voice low. "Wolf to Shepherd. At LZ Delta. Area appears clear. Confirm approach time."
Static. Then Tommy's voice, distorted by encryption. "Shepherd copies. Hawk inbound. ETA eighteen minutes."
"Copy. Standing by."
Alex clips the radio back to his belt, then settles into a position where he can watch the clearing. I move beside him, checking my pistol out of habit. Fifteen rounds. Hasn't changed since the last time I checked, but the ritual is grounding.
"You're nervous," Alex observes.
"Would you believe me if I said no?"