717 "The Crimson Echoes of a Past We Tried to Bury Beneath the Ash"

The municipal airfield was bathed in the harsh, glaring white light of noon as my government-issue sedan screeched to a halt beside Hangar 4.

Ethan sat in the passenger seat, his knuckles white as he gripped the dashboard. He hadn't spoken a word since we left the church. He hadn't argued, he hadn't begged me to stay. He knew who I was when he proposed—a woman whose life had always belonged to the sky, even when she tried to plant her feet on the ground.

"You're coming back, right?" Ethan asked quietly as I killed the engine, staring out at the sleek, matte-black twin-engine transport jet waiting on the tarmac with its engines already whining in standby.

"The mission is a transport drop, Ethan," I said, unpinning my ceremonial white gloves and tossing them onto the center console. "Twenty-four hours wheels-up and wheels-down. I'll be back before the reception cake has time to stale."

"That's a lie and you know it," he said, turning to look at me, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "That plane doesn't have a standard flight path on the civilian registry. Vance is sending you into the fire to draw out whoever bought those codes."

"If I don't go, Tyler goes to a federal max-sec prison, and my name is dragged through the mud forever," I replied, my hand resting gently on his cheek. "I’ve spent my whole life proving I'm worthy of respect in a world that wanted me to stay small. I'm not running from a fight now."

Ethan covered my hand with his, leaning into my palm. Then he smiled—a sad, crooked, fiercely proud smile. "Go fly, Captain Bennett. But if you aren't back by Tuesday, I'm hijacking a fighter jet and coming to pull you out myself."

I kissed him hard, tasting the salt of unspoken grief and fierce loyalty, before pushing open the car door and stepping out into the roaring gale of the jet wash.

Vance was waiting at the base of the boarding ladder, holding a heavy tactical tablet.

"Flight plan locked," Vance shouted over the whine of the turbines. "Your co-pilot is already inside. And Captain? Watch your six. The buyer of those codes isn't an outside syndicate. It's someone currently sitting on the Wellington Grand board."

My boots froze on the second rung of the ladder.

The Wellington Grand. The luxury hotel chain currently undergoing a hostile corporate takeover by Vanguard Holdings.