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Paige’s hand went to her locket, seeking comfort in its familiar shape. Her eyes found Cody’s, and for a moment, she saw her own fear and determination mirrored there.
In the sudden quiet, she heard the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant tick of a clock. Time stretched as they absorbed the gravity of their situation.
Finally, Bridger broke the silence. “So, we adapt. We’ve faced worse odds before.”
His words were meant to rally, but Paige couldn’t shake the feeling that this time, the game had changed entirely. Andjudging by the set of Cody’s jaw and the haunted look in his eyes, she wasn’t the only one who felt it.
A heavy silence blanketed the table as the implications settled like lead in their stomachs. Their enemy, far from vanquished, had morphed into something more lethal, more unpredictable.
Paige’s gaze drifted to Cody’s tattoo, her eyes tracing every line and shadow as if committing it to memory. A knot formed in her throat as she fought the nagging fear that this might be the last time she’d see it.
The sudden chime of her laptop sliced through the tension. Paige bolted from her chair, nearly upending her water glass in her haste to get to the desk where she’d left her laptop. The screen flickered to life, revealing an elegant silver-haired woman clad in tactical gear, framed by the high-tech backdrop of what could only be a command center.
“Hello, Paige. I’m Barbara Holbrook,” the woman’s warm yet authoritative voice filled the room. “I wanted to ensure you all made it out of that condo situation unscathed.”
Cody leaned into view as the others left the table and crowded around them, his eyes narrowing with recognition. “You were at the Smithsonian. The Castle. Front desk.”
A mischievous grin lit up Barbara’s face. “Indeed. Monday through Friday, ten to three. It’s remarkable how invisible us ‘women of a certain age’ become. Makes observing—and destroying—so much easier.”
“I like the cut of her jib,” Mason muttered, his gruff voice uncharacteristically soft.
Barbara winked at him. “Yours too, soldier.”
Paige blinked, astonished to see Mason’s face flush a shade of red she’d never thought possible for the stoic ex-Marine.
“You sent in the SWAT team,” Paige said, pieces of the puzzle falling into place.
Barbara nodded. “Best I could manage on short notice.”
Questions erupted from the team, but Barbara held up a hand. “I’m afraid I can’t linger for a Q&A. Just know there’s another agency out there, working in the shadows against the Consortium.”
Paige’s hand flew to her locket as Barbara continued. “I fell for your father when he was upgrading the Smithsonian’s security. When you joined BlackOut Squadron, he gave me that locket—a back door into the Consortium’s web. I’ve used it to protect you, him, and Cody as best I could.”
Barbara’s eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. “I’ve picked up a few tricks over the years. Hacking, schmoozing DC’s elite. Creating the right kind of chaos at the right moment? Child’s play.”
Her father, distant as he’d been, had never truly abandoned her. He’d been her silent guardian all along.
“I’d like to meet you someday,” Paige said, her voice thick with emotion.
Barbara’s face softened, her smile warm and maternal. “I’d love that, dear. I feel like I’ve known you for years, but we have so much catching up to do.”
Twenty-two years. That’s how long it had been since Paige’s mother passed. The realization that she might have just inherited a pseudo-stepmom hit her like a warm, unexpected embrace.
“Stay safe, all of you,” Barbara cautioned, her gaze sweeping across the team before settling on Cody. Then, with a playful smile, she blew a kiss to Paige. “You too, sweetheart.”
The screen went dark, leaving Paige staring at her own reflection in the black mirror of the laptop.
Her emotions swirled like a kaleidoscope—pride in her father’s secret efforts, grief for the years of misunderstanding,fear of the looming battle with Seven-Five, and a spark of excitement at the prospect of meeting Barbara.
But overshadowing it all was the dull ache in her chest whenever she looked at Cody.
Paige’s fingers found her locket once more, tracing its familiar contours. She’d be okay, eventually. The Lord would see to that. But the road ahead promised to be long and painful.
And lonely. But that, she was used to.
48
Even if he’dbeen a master of farewells, Cody knew he’d botched this one beyond repair. And he hadn’t even said a word.
