Page 18 of Collateral Damage
“Who do we have in Baltimore?” I ask, cutting straight through the silence. “I need a two-man protection detail at Greenfield Memory Care. Plain clothes. Immediate.”
“What’s the threat profile?”
“Targeted surveillance,” I say. “Elderly female. She’s being used as leverage.”
“I’ll make the calls,” Caleb says. “They’ll be in place within the hour.”
“Good. Defensive posture only. Eyes on entry points. Tree line coverage. I want every vehicle approach clocked and logged.”
“Understood.” He pauses, and I can hear the weight of the hesitation before he speaks. “Are you sure the cabin is the right call, boss?”
My fist tightens at my side. Caleb is the only person alive who can alternate between calling me out and calling me boss in the same breath. If we hadn’t bled in the same dirt—if I didn’t trust him with my life—I’d have stopped listening years ago.
“The plan to isolate stands.”
His disapproval crackles through the line, heavy with unspoken history. “Roger that. Check in when you’re set up.”
I end the call, refusing to let his doubt take root. Thinking about the last time I went solo is a luxury I can’t afford; memory is just another distraction.
Next call. Someone who won’t argue tactics.
Delilah answers, breathless. “I was literally calling you?—”
“I need a background check,” I cut in. “Reagan O’Connell. I want everything. He’s been on-site at Dr. Morrison’s residence. Several times.”
Her tone sharpens instantly, the playfulness stripped away. “She has a stalker? Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?”
“He wasn’t threatening her mother yesterday,” I say.
Delilah’s intake of breath is sharp, audible.
“Here’s what we actually have,” I continue, my voice dropping into a low, analytical cadence. “Male. Late thirties to mid-forties. Taller than Ava. Broad shoulders, balanced build. Moves deliberately—no wasted motion. Calm under pressure. Practical dress. Boots. Hands callused. No visible limp.”
I pace a short, tight line, eyes sweeping the perimeter again. “Don’t anchor to the name. Look for identity gaps. Recently assumed aliases. Contract or security work. Short stints. Geographic hopping. Minimal online footprint.”
She mutters something under her breath that I should probably reprimand her for. “Oh, it is on. This guy is toast.”
I wish I shared her confidence. Right now, I’m hunting a ghost who knows exactly how and when to apply pressure.
“Don’t get cocky, kid,” I say.
She makes an offended noise. “Wow. Weaponized Star Wars. Ruthless.”
I end the call and inhale the freezing air, letting the cold settle my pulse until the anger is something I can use.
We have a ghost to catch.
Focus is the only currency I have left.
Six
Ava
The road begins to tilt toward the mountains, leaving Frederick behind in a blur of gray. As the elevation climbs, a sharp, cold guilt churns in my stomach—a physical weight that makes me want to reach for the wheel and force Silas to turn back.
“If you can put a detail on my mother,” I start, my voice sounding thin against the hum of the tires, “why not just do the same for me? I could stay at a motel. I could be near her.”
Silas doesn’t answer immediately. He keeps his eyes on the winding blacktop for a beat longer than necessary, his profile a hard silhouette against the dashboard lights.
