THE WOMAN THEY MOCKED IN HANGAR 7

Walker saw the red light on his chest but did not move.

The ravine offered little protection. Its shallow walls were made of loose stone, and Grant’s contractors held the higher ground.

I kept my hands visible.

“If you wanted us dead, you wouldn’t be talking,” I called.

Grant smiled.

“You always did confuse recklessness with intelligence.”

“And you always talked when you were afraid.”

The smile disappeared.

For eleven years, I had remembered Silas Grant as a commanding presence behind a desk—broad shoulders, silver at his temples, voice controlled enough to make cruelty sound reasonable.

Time had narrowed him. His hair was white now, his face thinner, but the authority remained in his posture.

He descended halfway into the ravine.

“Slide the case toward me.”

Walker whispered, “We can’t give him the drives.”

“We aren’t going to.”

Grant raised his hand slightly.

The targeting light steadied.

I bent toward the case.

As I did, I pressed the emergency transmitter Hayes had clipped inside my jacket.

Nothing happened.

Grant noticed my hesitation.

“You won’t get a signal here,” he said. “The tower blocks everything except our frequency.”

That explained why Adrian had routed his call through it.

I closed the lid and pushed the case across the gravel.

It stopped several feet below Grant.

One contractor moved toward it.

Walker acted first.

He kicked loose stones into the man’s path and threw himself sideways. I seized the case and ran deeper into the ravine as shouting erupted behind us.

A bright light swept across the rocks.

We reached a narrow drainage tunnel beneath the old facility. Walker pulled open the rusted grate, and we crawled inside moments before the contractors reached the ravine floor.

The tunnel smelled of dust and stagnant water.

Walker led the way using the dim light from his watch.

“Where does this go?” he whispered.

“Under the testing facility.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Every Talon pilot trained here.”

Behind us, metal scraped against stone.

They were opening the grate.

We moved faster.

The tunnel divided beneath the main building. I chose the left branch from memory. It climbed toward an emergency equipment room beside the old simulator bay.

When we emerged, moonlight entered through holes in the roof.

Walker locked the hatch behind us.

“It won’t hold them long.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

I opened the metal case and divided the contents. I gave Walker one drive and placed the second inside my boot. We left the paper records hidden behind the simulator’s broken electrical panel.

“What now?” Walker asked.

“There used to be an emergency radio upstairs.”

“The tower’s blocking communications.”

“Not hardwired aviation frequencies.”

We crossed the abandoned building while Grant’s men entered below.

The emergency radio remained mounted beside the former control room. Its casing was damaged, but the internal indicator flickered when I switched it on.

I selected the old squadron frequency.

“This is Ghost Rider calling Red Valley Operations.”

Static answered.

I tried again.

“This is Ghost Rider. Emergency authentication Night Lantern Nine.”

A voice broke through.

“Ghost Rider, this is Red Valley.”

It was Bennett.

I almost smiled despite the danger.

“You were ordered to stay off communications.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Why are you on this frequency?”

“Hayes said you might need someone who understands old radios.”

Behind Bennett, I heard Collins ordering security teams to move.

“Trace this signal and send local authorities,” I said. “Grant is at the abandoned Talon testing facility with armed contractors.”

The radio crackled.

Then another voice interrupted.

“Mara, leave the tower.”

Adrian.

“Where are you?”

“No time. Grant planted charges beneath the facility.”

My blood turned cold.

Walker heard him.

“He wants to destroy the evidence.”

“Get out now,” Adrian said.

The transmission ended.

I grabbed Walker’s arm and ran.

We reached the exterior staircase as a blast shook the building. The upper windows exploded outward. The tower tilted, metal groaning above us.

The staircase collapsed behind Walker.

He caught the railing with one hand.

I dropped the case, seized his wrist, and pulled while the structure buckled beneath us.

For one terrible second, I saw Adrian’s aircraft disappearing from radar.

I heard his voice telling me to leave.

Not again.

I hooked my other arm through the railing and dragged Walker onto the platform.

We jumped from the lowest landing as the tower collapsed.

The ground struck hard enough to drive the air from my lungs.

Fire climbed through the remains of the building.

Walker rolled onto his back, coughing.

“You could have left me.”

“I’ve heard that suggestion before.”

Grant’s vehicles raced away as distant sirens approached.

The evidence case lay near the burning structure. The photograph and remaining papers inside it were destroyed.

But one drive was in Walker’s pocket.

The other remained inside my boot.

And the paper records were still behind the simulator panel—if the fire did not reach them.

Local deputies arrived first, followed by Collins and a military security team.

Grant was gone.

His contractors left two vehicles behind, stripped of identification.

Bennett jumped from Collins’s car before it stopped.

“You’re alive.”

“That was the plan.”

He looked at the burning tower. “Captain Walker?”

“Also alive.”

Walker sat against an ambulance while a medic examined a cut on his forehead.

Hayes arrived soon after and handed me the flashlight I had borrowed.

“I asked you to bring mine back,” he said.

“You came here for a flashlight?”

“I came because somebody tampered with another aircraft.”

The words silenced us.

“What aircraft?” Collins asked.

“Lieutenant Bennett’s.”

Bennett’s face changed.

Hayes removed a small transmitter from an evidence pouch.

“It was wired into the navigation system. Different function, same manufacturing series.”

Grant had prepared more than one death.

My phone rang.

This time, Collins traced the signal before I answered.

Adrian’s voice was clearer.

“You need to leave Red Valley.”

“I’m done leaving.”

“Grant has control of the showcase security network.”

“He just tried to bury us beneath a building.”

“And now he’ll use the public event.”

“For what?”

“To destroy your credibility permanently.”

Walker approached, holding the recovered drive.

“What’s on this?” he called toward the phone.

Adrian was silent for a moment.

“Evidence that Grant sold Night Lantern’s route. Also evidence that someone in Mara’s formation helped him.”

My stomach tightened.

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Rebecca encrypted the identity.”

“Where is she?”

Another pause.

Then Adrian answered.

“Alive.”

I closed my eyes briefly.

“Bring them both in,” Collins said. “We can protect you.”

“No,” Adrian replied. “Grant controls people beyond your command. Tomorrow’s showcase is the only place large enough to expose him publicly.”

“What do you need me to do?” I asked.

“Fly.”

The answer was so simple that it frightened me.

Adrian explained that Aegis Meridian planned to demonstrate a new automated defense network during the showcase. Grant intended to create a controlled aerial emergency, blame it on my supposed instability, and use the incident to destroy the last challenge to the original Night Lantern report.

“Your restored Talon contains an older navigation architecture,” Adrian said. “It can bypass the Aegis network long enough to broadcast Rebecca’s evidence.”

“So the aircraft wasn’t bait only for me.”

“It’s our way into the system.”

Collins shook his head. “The demonstration is canceled.”

“If you cancel it,” Adrian said, “Grant deletes everything and disappears. We get one chance.”

I looked toward the red glow rising from the ruined facility.

For eleven years, I had wanted nothing more than peace.

Peace had not protected Adrian.

It had not protected Rebecca.

It had allowed Grant’s lie to become history.

“I’ll fly,” I said.

Walker turned toward me. “Then I’m flying with you.”

“No.”