Page 61 of Echo: Line
She lifts her head. Looks at me with those sharp, intelligent eyes that see through every defense I try to build. "Then don't."
I kiss her again. Slower this time. Savoring it. Trying to commit every detail to memory because some part of me still believes this cannot last. That the world will find a way to take her from me like it has taken everything else.
But for now. In this moment. She is here. Real. Mine.
We lie together in the darkness of my quarters. Her breathing gradually evens out. Sleep pulls at both of us. We have been running on adrenaline and fear for days. The crash is inevitable.
I am just starting to drift off when the alarm sounds.
Sharp. Piercing. Cutting through the quiet like a blade.
Base security breach.
Delaney is on her feet instantly. Training kicks in despite exhaustion. She grabs her clothes. Starts dressing. "What does that mean?"
I am already moving. Pulling on pants. Reaching for my weapon. "It means the Committee found something."
The alarm continues its relentless wail. Somewhere in the base, Kane is mobilizing the team. Tommy is pulling security feeds. Willa is prepping medical. Stryker and Rourke will be running perimeter checks. Sarah helping with intel analysis. Khalid securing Odin and monitoring the backup exit routes.
"Stay close," I tell her.
"That's the plan."
We move into the tunnel. The alarm echoes off stone walls. Emergency lights cast everything in red. Other doors are opening. The team mobilizing. Weapons being grabbed. Tactical positions being taken.
We reach the command center. Kane is already there. So is Tommy. The main screen shows news footage—not thermal signatures, but CNN.
My face. Delaney's face. Side by side.
"—federal manhunt expanded," the anchor says. "The FBI agent wanted for treason has been spotted with suspected domestic terrorist Alex Mercer. Roadblocks established across three states. Reward increased to five million dollars for information leading to their capture?—"
"How?" Delaney breathes.
Tommy's fingers fly across keyboards. "Gas station security footage. From when you were running after Wyoming. Took them this long to process all the feeds, but facial recognition finally tagged you both." He pulls up the grainy image. "It went out on law enforcement channels an hour ago. Committee picked it up immediately."
Kane's expression is grim. "They don't have Echo Base. But they've narrowed the search radius. Every cop, every federal agent, every Committee asset in the region is now looking for both of you."
"The decoy operation," Stryker says. "We need to run it now. Before they tighten the net further."
I look at the screen. At Delaney's FBI photo next to mine. At the word WANTED burning in red.
She's officially one of us now. Hunted. Burned. No going back.
Her hand finds mine. Squeezes once.
I squeeze back.
"Then we give them what they're looking for," I say. "On our terms."
14
DELANEY
Kane's already issuing orders before the alarm stops wailing.
"Tommy, pull every piece of footage from that gas station. I want to know how they processed it so fast." His voice carries command authority that makes everyone snap to attention. "Willa, prep medical supplies for mobile operation. Stryker, Rourke, weapons and ammunition, priority alpha."
The team moves with practiced efficiency. No panic. No wasted motion. Just professionals executing protocols they've drilled a thousand times.
