CHAPTER 144
HARRY'S POV
The safe house Agent Kim had arranged for us was a modest apartment in central Jakarta, complete with reinforced doors and enough surveillance equipment to monitor a small army. But as I stood on the balcony watching the crowded streets below, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were walking into exactly the kind of trap William used to set for his enemies.
"You're thinking too loud," Skylar's voice came from behind me as she stepped onto the balcony, two cups of coffee in her hands.
I accepted the cup gratefully, noting how her fingers lingered against mine for just a moment longer than necessary. Six months of careful distance had made even these small touches feel precious and uncertain.
"I'm thinking that Webb has had weeks to prepare for us while we've had two days to understand his operation," I said. "The math doesn't work in our favor."
"Since when do we ever have favorable math?" She leaned against the railing beside me, close enough that I could smell her shampoo. "Remember the warehouse? We were outnumbered twenty to one."
"That was different. That was personal."
"And this isn't?" She turned to face me fully, her eyes intense. "Harry, there are girls in those facilities who are younger than I was when my father started selling me. If that's not personal, what is?"
I wanted to argue, to point out that rushing into an unknown situation with inadequate intelligence was exactly how good people got killed. But the truth was, I understood her urgency. I'd seen the same hollow desperation in those surveillance photos that I'd once seen in her eyes.
"What's really bothering you?" she asked, reading my hesitation correctly.
"What's bothering me is that six months ago, you made choices that nearly destroyed us. You kept secrets, manipulated us, and decided our lives were expendable for the greater good." I set down my coffee cup with more force than necessary. "And now you're asking us to trust you to lead us into a situation where those same instincts might get us all killed."
The hurt that flashed across her face was quickly replaced by something harder. "So you think I'm going to sacrifice you again."
"I think you're still becoming someone I don't recognize. And I think Webb knows exactly what buttons to push to make you do something stupid."
"Like what?"
"Like taking his bait. Like walking into whatever trap he's setting because you can't stand the thought of those girls suffering while we plan properly."
She was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the city lights. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer than I'd heard it in months.
"You're right," she said. "About all of it. I have been making choices based on mission priorities instead of protecting the people I love. And I probably would walk into a trap if I thought it would save those girls."
"Skylar..."
"But that's exactly why I need you. All of you." She turned to face me again, and I could see tears she was fighting not to shed. "I can't do this alone, Harry. Not just the mission - I can't be the person I need to be without you keeping me grounded."
The vulnerability in her admission hit me harder than any argument could have. This was the Skylar I'd fallen in love with - the one who could acknowledge her flaws and ask for help instead of just demanding trust.
"What are you asking for?" I said quietly.
"I'm asking you to help me be better. To call me out when I'm going too far, to make me consider consequences I might miss, to remind me that the mission doesn't matter if we lose each other in the process."
I reached out and cupped her face in my hands, feeling her lean into the touch. "And what if there comes a moment when I have to choose between following your orders and protecting you?"
"Then you protect me," she said without hesitation. "Even if I hate you for it. Even if it means disobeying a direct order from your superior officer."
"You're serious."
"Dead serious. Harry, I'd rather fail the mission than lose you. Any of you. It just took me almost destroying everything to figure that out."
I leaned down and kissed her then, soft and careful, like she might disappear if I pressed too hard. She kissed me back with a desperation that spoke of six months of careful distance and unspoken apologies.
When we broke apart, she rested her forehead against mine. "I love you," she whispered. "I never stopped loving you, even when I was making choices that hurt you."
"I love you too," I said. "But Skylar, if we're going to do this - if we're going to trust each other again - no more secrets. No more unilateral decisions. We're partners or we're nothing."
"Partners," she agreed. "In everything."
The sliding door opened behind us, and Lucas stepped onto the balcony with his laptop under his arm. "Sorry to interrupt, but we've got a problem."
"What kind of problem?" Skylar asked, immediately shifting back into mission mode.
"The kind where Webb just posted a video to the dark web," Lucas said, opening his laptop. "And you're going to want to see this."
The video quality was poor, obviously shot with a handheld camera in low light. But the content was crystal clear - a young woman, maybe seventeen years old, chained to a wall in what looked like a basement. She was crying, speaking in English with an American accent.
"My name is Jennifer Walsh," she said, her voice shaking. "I'm from Portland, Oregon. I was supposed to be studying abroad, but they took me from the airport. Please, if anyone sees this, tell my parents I'm alive. Tell them I'm sorry I didn't listen when they said not to travel alone."
The camera panned to show two other girls in similar conditions, both clearly American, both obviously terrified. Then a man's voice spoke from behind the camera.
"Ms. Mitchell, I believe you know what it's like to be someone's property. These girls are about to learn the same lesson, unless you'd like to negotiate their release. I'll be in touch with terms."
The video ended, leaving us staring at a black screen.
"Son of a bitch," I breathed. "He's using American girls as bait."
"This changes everything," Skylar said, her voice cold with fury. "Those aren't just random victims - they're college students who were targeted specifically to draw us in."
"Which means it's definitely a trap," Lucas pointed out.
"Doesn't matter," Skylar replied. "We can't leave American citizens in the hands of a monster just because it's dangerous to save them."
I looked at her face and saw the same determination that had driven her to walk into that warehouse to save hostages six months ago. But this time, instead of fear, I felt something that might have been pride.
Because this time, she was asking us to walk into the trap with her instead of keeping us in the dark about her plans.
"What do you need us to do?" I asked.
Her smile was sharp enough to cut glass. "Help me show Webb what happens when someone threatens American citizens on my watch."
But as we headed back inside to plan our response, I couldn't shake the feeling that Webb had just escalated this from a rescue mission into something much more personal and dangerous.
And that was exactly what he'd been counting on.
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