PART 10
One red dot appeared on Crowe’s chest.
Then another.
Then six.
Then twelve.
From the ridge above, men rose out of the rocks like ghosts with rifles.
At their center stood Chief Warrant Officer Mitchell.
Ironwolf.
Gray beard.
Cold eyes.
Rifle steady.
He keyed his radio.
“Sarah, you good?”
I looked at Crowe.
Then at the lasers covering him.
“I’ve had better flights.”
Mitchell’s mouth twitched.
“Drop the weapon,” Mitchell said.
Crowe laughed, but it sounded wrong now.
“You have no idea who backs me.”
Mitchell stepped closer.
“I knew your bosses before they bought suits.”
Crowe’s gun shifted toward me.
The red dots tightened.
I did not move.
“Do it,” I said softly.
His finger trembled.
He wanted to.
But cowards love murder only when the odds are clean.
Crowe dropped the pistol.
By sunrise, the cave was sealed, the files secured, and the uplinks copied.
Harper was arrested.
Garrison gave a statement.
Crowe said nothing until they dragged him past me in cuffs.
Then he whispered,
“The Council will burn you.”
I looked at him.
“They already tried the falling part.”
Then I held up the folder with my father’s photo.
“And Crowe? Tell the Council my father said hello.”
Months later, my father’s death was officially reopened.
His service record was corrected.
The court heard Crowe’s confession.
Guilty.
Guilty.
Guilty.
Afterward, reporters asked how I survived the fall.
I thought about the wind.
The river.
The emergency chute.
My father’s voice.
Then I said,
“I remembered I wasn’t done.”
That night, I stepped back into a Blackhawk.
The door stayed open.
May you like
But this time, nobody pushed me.
This time, I chose the sky.
