Page 151 of Anchor
“Not just clean,” Lincoln said. “Permanent. We’ve cross-checked manifests, transfers, burner routes. The structure is exposed. We’ll take it all down.”
Reid stayed silent for a moment, steadying his breath. “Then we finish it here.”
Apex nodded once. “We’ll divide the squad, and we’ll move now.”
Kieran leaned forward, his tone colder. “Before we move, we need to know how Scour and the other three intruders got inside Claire’s medical suite. Vos will come in the same way. That breach has to be closed before he makes his move.”
Lincoln closed the tablet with a quiet click. “Until then, Claire’s suite stays under doubled watch.”
Reid lifted his head, his voice low. “She’s been through enough.”
“You both have,” Kieran agreed.
Reid straightened, giving Apex a long, measured look. “Get it done. I’m sitting this one out. I’m not leaving Claire or the baby. This one is yours.” He turned toward the door, one last order hanging behind him. “No more ghosts.”
Kieran allowed himself the faintest smile. “A wise choice.”
Lincoln nodded in agreement. “You stay with Claire. Kieran and I will split the shifts on the nursery, until Vos is dead and cold. Tuck, Vale and Patrick are splitting the medical portion on both the baby and Claire. This is about family. Go be with Claire.”
LOWER-LEVEL CORRIDOR – 0145 HOURS
The night was quiet. Reid knew the sound of a hospital when it was alive—ventilators whispering, carts rolling, nurses moving in practiced rhythm. He left the NICU after a feeding and was returning to the maternity suite he shared with Claire. The aircarried only silence, broken by the faint hum of power through the walls.
He checked the corridor as he walked. Tree Town One was staggered along the hall, Denver’s Eagle’s Talon X-Ray squad layered just behind them. Every angle was covered. Every stairwell locked down. Still, the hair on the back of his neck stood. Vos would come. He had to.
Reid adjusted the compression wrap tight against his ribs, ignoring the pain that flared when he inhaled. The stairwell leading up to the maternity floor was twenty feet away. He had one task left. Head up a flight of stairs and climb into bed with Claire.
The sound came at 01:47. A soft hiss. Metal against metal. The far fire door unsealed.
Reid’s hand dropped to his weapon as the steel door swung wide. Vos stepped into the corridor, moving as if he owned it. He wore civilian clothes dark enough to swallow the light, his gait slow and measured. His face had been rebuilt with sharper angles, skin stretched in new lines, but the eyes were the same. They were cold and merciless.
The sight of him hit Reid harder than he expected. For months, the man had been a ghost. He was a shadow orchestrating every attack. And now he was here, standing in front of him, flesh and blood.
Vos’s gaze swept the hall and landed on him with surgical precision. His mouth curved faintly. “Hanlon.” His voice carried the same mockery Reid remembered, smooth and cutting. “I wondered how long you’d last.”
“I’ll last longer than you.” Reid raised his weapon, his arm steady despite the tremor in his muscles.
Vos didn’t stop. His steps were slow, deliberate, a predator certain of the kill. “Scour is gone. My networks are gone. You think that leaves me cornered. It doesn’t. It leaves me free.” Hiseyes shifted toward the doors leading to the NICU corridor, then back to Reid. “And I only need one thing.”
“Over my dead body,” Reid said flatly.
Vos tilted his head, studying him as if he were a specimen under glass. “That can be arranged. You’re bleeding inside, aren’t you? Still limping from the last time my people touched you. You won’t hold together.”
Reid shifted his stance, blocking the corridor completely. “Try me.”
For the first time, Vos stopped, noting the space between them. Someone had tripped the alarm. The strobes from the exit light painted sharp edges across his altered features, each flicker making him look less human, more like the thing Reid had always known him to be.
Vos’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “Do you know what I promised Heather? Power and a future. A child raised the way Claire never was. Genius sharpened into a weapon. Strength without weakness. I’m so close.”
Reid’s finger curled tighter on the trigger. His chest burned, but his voice was steady. “You’ll never touch her. You’ll never touch our daughter.”
Vos smiled faintly, almost pitying. “You’ve already lost, Hanlon. You just don’t see it yet.”
He moved first and fast, hand sweeping for his weapon. Reid fired.
The shot cracked down the corridor, deafening in the confined space. Vos staggered back, left shoulder tearing red, but he didn’t fall. He pivoted, firing in return, the bullet slamming into the wall inches from Reid’s head.
Tree Town One surged forward from cover, but Reid barked into his comm, “Hold position! He’s mine.”
