Chapter 154: 154

The corridor was eerily silent as Winter, Bale, and Harlowe walked away from the interrogation room. Their footsteps echoed, but none of them spoke. It wasn’t safe.

Winter’s pulse was still thrumming from the encounter. He could feel the weight of unseen eyes watching them, the pressure of the officials’ threat hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break. He didn’t need to check his six to know they were still being monitored.

Harlowe, uncharacteristically silent, walked just a step behind Bale. His usual easy grin was gone, replaced by a sharp, calculating expression Winter rarely saw on him.

They passed two security officers, their black uniforms crisp, their gazes unreadable as they stood by the doors leading out. The moment Winter stepped through the threshold and into the cool night air, tension uncoiled slightly in his shoulders.

But they weren’t safe yet.

The three of them made it through the secured halls and into the armored transport waiting just outside. A sleek, black transport with tinted windows—standard military issue. Bale climbed into the driver’s seat, while Winter and Harlowe slid into the back. Only when the heavy doors shut behind them did the tension ease, if only slightly.

Bale pulled the vehicle onto the main road leading back to the barracks, his hands firm on the wheel. Still, none of them spoke. Not here.

Winter gazed out the window at the dimly lit streets of Sector 2, his mind still circling around the blurred image in that file. The thing they weren’t supposed to have seen. The thing someone had gone to great lengths to erase. And yet, the officials had it. How?

It wasn’t until they were well past the perimeter that Bale finally exhaled and spoke.

"Your teams have been dismissed for the day," he said, keeping his eyes on the road. "You’ll be going back to check the main base ruins another time."

Winter and Harlowe exchanged a glance before nodding. They both knew what that meant. The brass wanted them quiet. Dispersed. Watched.

Bale sighed, gripping the wheel tighter. "Now, someone tell me—how the hell did a simple perimeter recon turn into this?"

Harlowe let out a short laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Beats me. One second we’re checking out a derelict lab, the next we’re getting ’Join Us or Die’ contracts shoved in our faces."

Bale’s frown deepened. "Do you two even understand what kind of people you just crossed?"

"Who?" Harlowe asked, stretching his arms over his head. "They looked like the usual shady government types to me."

Winter sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. His stomach churned at the memory of how fast they had produced those contracts. Not just some vague, hastily put-together orders—fully typed, with their exact details. It meant one thing.

They had been prepared.

They had known.

That was what scared him the most.

"They knew too much," Winter murmured, staring ahead. "Had our names. Our IDs. They pulled those contracts out like they’d been sitting on them, waiting for us to step out of line."

Bale’s jaw tightened. "This could be a problem."

"Yeah," Winter muttered. For me and Zara.

Bale’s grip on the wheel tightened. "You’re both lucky I got there when I did. Another few minutes, and you would’ve been signing away your freedom."

Harlowe’s smirk faded, his usual lightheartedness replaced by something more serious. He turned to Bale. "Did you go over the drive?"

Bale shook his head. "Was about to when I got word you two were being detained." He glanced at Winter through the rearview mirror. "I came straight over."

A heavy silence settled in the car.

Winter exhaled, his chest feeling tight as he looked out the window, watching the city lights of Sector 2 blur past. "Thanks for that."

Bale grunted, shifting gears. "You’re my men. We’re fighting for humanity’s survival, not bending over for a bunch of suits with too much authority. Of course I’d help."

No more words were needed.

By the time they reached the barracks, the night had settled in, blanketing the sector in cold shadows. Bale pulled the vehicle to a stop and turned to face them.

"Go home. Lay low. I’ll go through the drive tonight, see what we’re really dealing with. When I call, you come."

Winter and Harlowe nodded. Neither argued.

With one last glance around, Winter stepped out of the car and headed straight for the living quarters.

*****

Winter moved fast. Not quite running, but close.

The moment he was clear of the barracks, his pace quickened, boots striking against the pavement as he navigated the familiar paths of Sector 2. The streets were mostly empty at this hour, cold blue lights casting long shadows against the concrete.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. A shadow flickered in the periphery of his vision—when he turned his head, it was gone. He pressed forward. Paranoia, he told himself. But it didn’t stop his pulse from hammering.

By the time Winter reached his building, his muscles were wound tight with exhaustion, his mind a tangle of worry and frustration. The whole damn day had been one long nightmare, and it wasn’t over. Too much had happened. Too many questions left unanswered.

And now, all he wanted to do was make sure Zara and Leo were okay.

The building suddenly felt cold, a compact residential complex mostly housing off-duty personnel. He closed the distance in seconds, swiped his keycard, and stepped inside—

The room was empty.

Winter stilled.

His grip on the door handle tightened until his knuckles went white. A slow, creeping unease slithered down his spine. Zara was always here. She wouldn’t leave Leo alone.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears.

They wouldn’t have taken her. Not yet. They’d want me on edge first, right? They’d want me paranoid, wondering if they could take them at any moment...

They’d want him afraid. Fear was leverage.

But still—

Shit.

Panic clawed at the edges of his mind.

Flashes of worst-case scenarios crowded his thoughts—Zara restrained, Leo crying, unknown figures dragging them away into the dark.

His breath hitched.

He needed to find her. Now.

"Zara?!"

Winter shoved the door closed behind him and strode inside, scanning the small living space. The table and chairs were untouched, a single glass of water sitting on the surface. The bed Zara usually occupied was still made, the blanket tucked in at the edges. Leo’s small cot was empty, the blanket crumpled like he’d left it in a hurry.

He moved quickly, yanking open the narrow closet—empty. His pulse spiked as he crossed the room, pushing the bathroom door open with more force than necessary. The dim light flickered on automatically. No one.

His stomach churned.

If she was gone—if they had taken her—

A small sound.

Winter twisted back sharply.

Leo stood in the dimly lit hallway, rubbing his sleepy eyes with a tiny fist. His soft, brown curls were a mess, and he clutched a small stuffed bear in his other hand.

The rush of relief that slammed into Winter was so strong his knees almost buckled. His whole body sagged, tension draining from his muscles in a wave so sudden it left him momentarily lightheaded. His hands, still clenched from the moment of panic, trembled slightly.

Damn, he thought shakily. He was fucked.

He clenched his jaw, forcing the emotion back, but the feeling of nearly losing them—just the thought—made his chest ache.

He crossed the room in three long strides and knelt in front of the toddler, gripping his tiny shoulders. "Leo," he breathed, relief and fear warring in his chest.

Leo made a small, confused sound. "Unc’?"

"Yeah, buddy," Winter murmured, holding him close. "I’m here."

Leo blinked up at him, still drowsy. "Why’re you squishing me?"

Winter huffed a quiet laugh and pulled back, hands resting on Leo’s tiny shoulders. "Where’s your mom?"

Leo yawned, rubbing his nose. "Dunno. I was playin’ in my space all day. I was waitin’ for Mommy, but she didn’t come. Then I heard you, so I came out."

Winter’s heart slammed against his ribs.

Zara wouldn’t leave Leo alone. Ever.

Something was wrong.

His mind raced, torn between two options—take Leo with him to search for her or send him back to his space, where he’d be safer.

He was about to decide when—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A fist rapped against the door.

Winter’s entire body tensed.

His arms automatically went around Leo, pulling him close. His eyes darted toward the door.

The soldiers wouldn’t knock.

It wasn’t them.

Who the hell—

He set Leo down gently, ruffling his hair in a silent reassurance before striding toward the door. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight, ready for a fight if it came to that.

He wondered if he should tell the kid to hide in his space again.

He placed a hand on the doorknob, inhaling sharply before pulling it open—

Sam stood there, looking flustered, his breath coming out in short, hurried bursts.

Winter narrowed his eyes. "What—"

"Winter," he cut him off, stepping forward. "We have a problem."

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