We had ten hours left when the convoy rolled out.
Twelve vehicles. Forty armed Vipers and Reapers. Albert beside me in the lead truck, Victoria coordinating intel from the passenger seat, Knox commanding the rear guard. We were hunting a ghost—Thomas Kane, the man who might be my father, who might be X, who might be the key to ending this nightmare.
"Last known location was a compound in the Nevada hills," Victoria said, pulling up satellite imagery. "Abandoned military facility. Off the grid. Perfect place to hide for twenty-seven years."
"Or perfect place for an ambush," Albert muttered, checking his weapon for the fifth time.
Grace was back at the clubhouse with Sienna and twenty guards. Leaving her felt like ripping out my heart, but bringing her into a potential war zone was worse
