Page 75 of Echo: Line
Kane stands at the tactical display, waiting until everyone's settled. "Delaney Ward," he says without preamble. "Former FBI profiler, currently wanted for domestic terrorism she didn't commit. The Committee burned her completely—fabricated evidence, manufactured witnesses, created digital trails that'llstand up under most investigations. She's facing federal charges for seventeen murders, conspiracy to commit violence against federal officers, and terrorism."
"So she's radioactive," Stryker observes. "Anyone associating with her becomes part of the conspiracy."
"Exactly. Which is why she's valuable." Kane pulls up the intel on screen. "She knows FBI protocols, evidence standards, how federal prosecutors build cases. When we take down the Committee, we need documentation that'll stick. Evidence that survives aggressive defense attorneys and hostile judges. We need someone who can prepare a case that doesn't fall apart under scrutiny."
"She's also a trained profiler," Sarah adds. "She can assess Committee members' psychological vulnerabilities, predict their responses, help us target weak points in their leadership structure."
"If she's legitimate," Rourke says. His voice carries no accusation, just tactical assessment. "How do we know the Committee isn't playing the long game? Plant her here, she gathers intel on our operations, reports back, and they hit us when we're most vulnerable."
The question is fair. Brutal, but fair.
"Because the Committee already knows everything about Echo Ridge's operational structure," I say evenly. "Kessler had access to your communications, surveillance on your facility, information about your personnel. If I were a plant, I'd already have what they need. And if they wanted to eliminate you, they'd have moved already instead of wasting resources on an elaborate infiltration."
"Unless you're here to gather information they don't have," Rourke counters. "Like how we think, how we plan, which members of our team might be vulnerable to compromise."
"Then why burn me first?" I don't look away. "Why destroy my credibility, my career, my ability to operate in federal law enforcement? If the Committee wanted me inside Echo Ridge, they'd have kept me clean—maintained my FBI credentials, kept my reputation intact so I'd be a legitimate ally."
"Could be she didn't know she was going to be burned," Stryker suggests. "The Committee does play a long game. Sacrifice her credentials to make her desperate enough to run to us."
Alex shifts beside me, his body language radiating barely controlled aggression. "If you're accusing her of being a Committee asset, say it directly instead of dancing around implications."
"I'm assessing threat levels," Stryker says calmly. "Same as I would for any new addition to this team. Nothing personal."
"It feels pretty damn personal."
"Enough." Kane's voice cuts through with command authority. "Stryker's doing his job. Delaney knows that. And she's right about the tactical logic—the Committee gains nothing by burning her credentials just to plant her here. They're more direct when they want someone dead."
He pulls up another file. "Cross confirmed the Denver bombing was Committee operatives. The footage implicating Delaney was fabricated using the same AI technology Kessler's division uses for deepfakes. Financial records tracing back to shell companies, communications intercepts proving Committee involvement. The evidence is comprehensive."
"Cross could be feeding us what we want to hear," Rourke points out.
"It matches what Alex extracted from Kessler during interrogation," Kane says. "Independent confirmation from multiple sources. The Denver bombing was Protocol Seven in action—eliminate threats and manufacture evidence that turnsthem into villains. Delaney was getting too close to something the Committee wanted buried, so they destroyed her."
Kane turns to face me directly. "The question isn't whether Delaney's telling the truth. The question is whether we can trust her to follow orders when operations get complicated, to keep her head when everything goes sideways, to put the mission ahead of clearing her name."
He pauses. "Can you do that? Can you accept that your name might never be cleared officially? That you might live the rest of your life as a fugitive, wanted by the federal government, unable to return to the career you spent eight years building?"
The question demands absolute honesty.
"Yes," I say. "Because clearing my name was never the point. Exposing the Committee is the point. Stopping their operations is the point. Making sure those seventeen agents didn't die for nothing is the point. If that means I spend the rest of my life wanted by the FBI, then that's the price. I'll pay it."
Kane studies me for three long seconds. Then he nods once.
"Welcome to Echo Ridge," he says. "You're one of us now."
The acceptance lands heavy and real. Sarah smiles. Tommy offers a subtle nod. Khalid watches with approval in his young face.
Stryker pushes off the wall and extends his hand. "Welcome to the team. Sorry about the interrogation."
"You were doing your job," I say, shaking his hand. "I'd have been more concerned if you didn't challenge me."
"Rourke?" Kane prompts.
The sniper regards me with that patient stare. Then he shrugs. "If she gets us all killed, I reserve the right to say 'I told you so' at my own funeral."
"Fair enough," I say.
Alex's hand finds mine, fingers interlacing briefly before releasing. The gesture is subtle but clear—claiming alliance, offering support, marking me as his in front of the team.
