Shadows of Loyalty

Chapter 13

The roar of the jet engines was a constant, muted hum in the background as Calvin's private jet soared through the clouds toward England. The interior of the aircraft was luxurious, yet the mood among its passengers was anything but relaxed. Quinn sat stiffly near the front of the cabin, staring out a window that reflected only his own strained expression.

Calvin was sprawled across a wide leather seat, reading something on a tablet, while Gary dozed lightly in another. Sasha sat near the back, alone, reclined in her seat with her eyes closed and arms crossed. She looked calm—peaceful even—a stark contrast to the storm raging inside Quinn.

He hadn't slept. Not since the ambush. Not since Alicia.

The memory of her arms wrapped around his neck, the flash of betrayal in her eyes, the sharp sting of her grip tightening—it all played in a relentless loop in his head. Quinn clenched his jaw and stood, making his way toward the back of the cabin.

Sasha didn't open her eyes.

"What do you want, Reeds?" she said, voice low and even, laced with exhaustion.

He paused next to her seat, running a hand through his hair. "Just wanted to say... thanks. For saving me."

She shrugged, still not opening her eyes. "You looked like you needed some help."

He gave a weak chuckle, more breath than sound. "Yeah. I guess I did."

A beat of silence passed.

Quinn shifted awkwardly. "Can I ask you something?"

"You're going to whether I say yes or no."

He hesitated again. "What kind of intel did you get on Alicia?"

One of Sasha's eyes cracked open, lazily focusing on him. "You sure you want to know?"

Quinn pressed his lips together and nodded.

With a quiet sigh, Sasha sat up, reaching under her seat. She pulled out a sleek laptop, flipped it open, and tapped a few keys. The screen glowed in the dim cabin light. Without a word, she turned the laptop toward him.

"This is what I have."

Quinn stepped closer and stared at the screen.

Alicia’s dossier was extensive. A deep red clearance label blinked at the top of the file: Undercover Operative: The Hand of Justice.

Below that, lines of text detailed how she'd infiltrated Quinn's life. How she had been planted during one of his operations. How she used his clearance—encrypted behind sophisticated masking programs—to gain access to top-secret intelligence.

Every mission. Every password. Every file. All siphoned away under his nose.

Photos flashed next, one of Alicia and Ryan—not in a meeting, not in a strategy session. Intimate. Too intimate. Lying in bed. Smiling.

Quinn's face twisted, jaw clenching. His hand slammed the laptop shut with a sharp snap.

Sasha flinched only slightly. "I'm sorry."

Quinn backed up a step, rubbing a hand over his face. His breathing was shallow, and his eyes blinked rapidly.

"I think... I think I knew. Deep down," he said quietly. "I just didn’t want to believe it."

Sasha said nothing, watching him.

"You know, I just wanted to be loved. Wanted. Normal." He laughed bitterly, no humor in it. "Is that too much to ask?"

Sasha slowly shook her head. "Unfortunately, in our line of work... we don’t get normal. We don’t get white picket fences and Sunday brunches. We get blood on our hands and ghosts in our beds."

Quinn sat down across from her, elbows on his knees.

"How do you deal with it?"

Sasha tilted her head. "I don’t. I just stopped pretending it could be any other way."

They sat in silence, the hum of the jet surrounding them. Eventually, Calvin stood and walked down the aisle, tossing a file folder onto the table between them.

"Get some rest," he said. "We land in two hours. This place is as close to a fortress as you'll get. Private land. Armed guards. Off-grid. We stay there until Mason clears your name."

Sasha leaned back again, eyes closing. Calvin patted Quinn on the shoulder and made his way back up the aisle. Quinn remained seated, numb, the weight of betrayal pressing against his chest.

The jet continued across the Atlantic, hurtling toward a new horizon.

But nothing felt like forward anymore.

Quinn leaned back in the leather seat, the cabin humming softly around him. He stared at the laptop Sasha had closed, its sleek black surface like a tombstone marking the end of his marriage — or whatever it had really been. Betrayal was one thing. But being used? Manipulated to the point of treason?

That cut deeper.

Sasha silently watched him from across the aisle. Her usual detached cool was still there, but something about her gaze had softened — barely perceptible, but it was there.

He raked a hand through his hair, fingers trembling with the weight of it all. "Three years," he murmured. "Three goddamn years. I thought we were building a life."

"She was building one too," Sasha said evenly. "Just not with you."

He huffed out a humorless breath. “Yeah. That was… a turning point.”

Sasha leaned forward slightly. “You held back. I saw it. You still loved her.”

“That was my mistake.”

A silence settled between them, broken only by the low hum of the engines and Calvin’s occasional muttering near the cockpit.

“Did you love her?” Sasha asked quietly.

Quinn didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know anymore,” he said at last. “Maybe I loved the idea of her. The life we had. The peace.”

Sasha looked at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. “Peace is a lie. At least for people like us.”

He met her eyes. “Do you believe that?”

She hesitated. “It’s safer to.”

They sat like that, not speaking but sharing the same haunted silence, until the captain’s voice came over the intercom.

“We’ll be landing in twenty minutes.”

Calvin emerged from the cockpit, adjusting his jacket. “Alright, kids. Stretch your legs. England awaits.”

Quinn didn’t move.

Sasha closed her eyes again, folding her arms.

Calvin walked toward them and flopped down on the armrest near Sasha. “You two look like someone canceled Christmas.”

“No offense,” Quinn said, “but I’m not in the mood for one of your monologues, Calvin.”

“Too bad,” Calvin said with a grin. “Because I’m about to give you one anyway.”

Quinn shot him a look.

Calvin leaned in. “Listen, I know this is rough. You’re angry. Hurt. You feel like the world pulled the rug out from under you and now you’re falling through the cracks. But welcome to the real world, Reeds. You don’t get to be one of us without bleeding a little.”

“I’ve bled plenty.”

“Oh, I know. But this? This isn’t just about your heart being broken or your record being smeared. This is bigger. She’s with The Hand of Justice. Which means she’s after the list.”

Sasha opened one eye. “Assuming she doesn’t already have it.”

Quinn’s stomach twisted. “What would they do with it?”

“Depends who’s holding the trigger,” Calvin said. “Expose the list and topple every corrupt figure tied to it. Or sell it and make billions off blackmail. Or worse—leverage it to start a war.”

“And she’s capable of that?”

Calvin gave him a long look. “Do you really need to ask?”

The jet touched down twenty minutes later at a private airstrip outside London. A sleek black SUV was already waiting on the tarmac. Calvin slipped into the driver’s seat while Gary sat in the passenger seat, Sasha and Quinn climbed into the back.

They drove in silence for miles, past rolling green fields and old country estates, until they reached a gated property shrouded by dense forest.

The safe house was an old stone manor tucked behind high hedges and iron gates. Guard dogs barked from somewhere in the distance, and two men in plain clothes but military posture stood watch at the entrance.

Inside, the place was fortress-like — reinforced walls, bulletproof windows, multiple panic rooms. Yet somehow, still elegant.

“This was one of my European bolt-holes,” Calvin said, tossing his keys on the marble counter. “Used to bring women here to impress them.”

“Charming,” Sasha said dryly.

Quinn walked past the kitchen and into the great room, where a fire already crackled in the hearth. He sat heavily on one of the leather couches, elbows on his knees, head down.

Sasha moved to the window, arms folded, watching the forest beyond the iron gates.

Calvin leaned against the wall. “We lay low here for now. Mason’s working every angle to clear you and Gary. She’s risking her career to do it. But you need to stay off the radar.”

Quinn nodded without looking up.

“And if Alicia tries to contact you,” Calvin added, “don’t answer. No matter what she says.”

Quinn finally looked up. “Do we know where she is?”

Sasha turned from the window. “No. She vanished off grid thirty minutes after she ran.”

“She’ll reach out eventually,” Calvin said. “She’ll want to explain. Just like all traitors do.”

“She’s not going to say sorry,” Sasha added. “She’s going to lie.”

Quinn’s jaw flexed. “Then I won’t believe her.”

The fire crackled.

They all stood there — warriors in exile, unsure what came next, but knowing it wouldn’t be peace.

Later that night.

The manor was quiet. Calvin and Gary had disappeared into the upstairs rooms. Sasha was somewhere outside, patrolling the perimeter. Quinn couldn’t sleep.

He stood in the study, staring at an old map of Europe framed on the wall. He poured a drink but didn’t touch it. The reflection in the window showed him a man transformed — colder, more cautious. Hardened.

He pulled out his phone and stared at the photo still saved in his gallery — him and Alicia on their honeymoon, smiling. Real, or staged?

He deleted it.

Behind him, the door creaked open.

Sasha stepped in, damp from the misty night air. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Didn’t try.”

She sat across from him. “Tomorrow we start digging. Calvin’s pulling contacts in Paris, Mason’s feeding us intel through burner networks. We’ll find her. And we’ll find the list.”

He looked at her. “What happens then?”

“Then we end this.”

A long pause.

“Do you ever regret this life?” he asked.

Sasha looked at him for a beat, then slowly shook her head. “I was born into this life. I don’t know anything else. It’s hard to regret something you never had a choice in.”

He nodded, a long breath escaping his lungs. “Yeah… I get that.”

But neither of them said they’d ever walk away.

Because people like them? They didn’t get normal.

They got revenge.