Page 50 of Raven's Mark
"How many?"
"Three, maybe four. Small footprint." I scan the tree line, more out of habit than concern. "I need them positioned in Fredericksburg without the team's knowledge. Separate chain of command. Separate objectives."
"What's the operation?"
"Raven is proposing to use herself as bait to draw out the cartel and locate their operational center. The team reviewed the plan this morning and agreed to run it. Execution window is three to four days."
The silence on the line stretches longer than any pause Carmichael has given me before. When he speaks again, his voice has dropped a register. "You want shadow assets as insurance."
"I want contingency operators positioned for variables the primary team can't account for." I keep my voice level and my reasoning clean. "If this operation breaks down, I need people already in position who can extract her before the cartel moves her somewhere we can't reach. People who answer to me and no one else."
"You're running a parallel operation without informing your team."
"I'm building a failsafe." I lean against the porch railing and watch a hawk circle over the cedar break. "The plan is solid. Theteam is capable. But Raven is walking into a hostile environment with limited backup and too many variables sitting outside our control. I'm not staking her life on a single operational line. If the primary plan fails, I need assets already in play that the cartel won't anticipate and the team won't accidentally compromise."
More keys. Carmichael is already running names, cross-referencing availability against skill sets and proximity. "I have operators finishing work in San Antonio. I can redirect three of them to Fredericksburg within forty-eight hours. All Shadowland, experienced in extraction and close-quarters work. They'll operate under your direct command and maintain radio silence until you activate them."
"Good."
"Jesse." Carmichael's voice shifts. "Does Raven know about this?"
"No."
"She won't take it well when she finds out."
"I know." The words come out flat. "But she'll be alive to be angry about it."
"Understood." A brief pause. "I'll send the roster and positioning data before end of day."
The line goes dead.
I pocket the phone and stand on the porch for a while longer, watching the sun climb. Inside the cabin, water is still running. Raven is in the shower, almost certainly running through contingency scenarios and tactical variables in her head, preparing herself mentally for an operation that could end her life.
And I'm standing on this porch having just arranged a parallel operation she doesn't know about, with assets she'll never see, running beside a plan she believes I've endorsed without reservation.
The dishonesty sits heavy, but it doesn't sit wrong. There's a difference between lying to someone and refusing to let them die for the sake of transparency. I've made that calculation before. I'll make it again if I have to.
I head back inside. The shower cuts off as I close the door, and I hear movement in the bedroom. I pour two glasses of whiskey from the bottle on the counter and wait.
Raven emerges a few minutes later with damp hair loose around her shoulders, wearing one of my shirts and nothing else. The sight of her in my clothes, barefoot on the hardwood with her skin still flushed from the hot water, hits me in a place that has nothing to do with tactics or shadow assets or the lie I'm carrying.
She sees the whiskey and crosses to the counter. I hand her a glass and she takes it without a word. We drink in silence for a moment, the kitchen settling into the particular quiet of two people who've agreed to risk everything and are choosing not to examine that decision too closely just yet.
"Soon," she says.
"Soon." I set my glass down and move around the counter until I'm close enough to catch the scent of soap on her skin. "And between now and then, we make sure you're ready for every version of how this could go."
"I'm already prepared."
"You're competent." I reach out and tug the collar of my shirt aside, exposing the curve of her shoulder. "Competent and prepared aren't the same thing."
Her eyes narrow. "I've run undercover operations before, Jesse."
"Not like this one." I lean in, my mouth close enough to her ear that my breath moves the damp hair against her neck. "You've never walked into a cartel operation knowing they want you dead before you arrive. You've never played bait for a planwhere one wrong move means they take you apart before anyone can reach you."
Her breath catches, and I feel the shiver travel through her body where it's pressed against mine.
"Then it's a good thing I don't plan on giving them the chance."
