Before Jäger, Faye Kelso was an anchor. Not just for her team, but for herself. She was a woman carved from grit and unwavering principle, forged in the fires of the Division's initial activation. Her mind was a tactical processor, her resolve unbending. She believed in the cause, in the continuity of government, in the sacred oath they'd all taken to rebuild. And in Jäger, she had found an equal – a partner whose quiet strength mirrored her own, whose tactical brilliance was a perfect counterpoint to her methodical precision. Their connection wasn't just professional; it was the quiet, deep understanding of two souls burdened by an impossible task, finding solace and unwavering trust in each other. Their small, shared moments amidst the chaos – a knowing glance across a ruined street, a shared, weary laugh over cold MREs – were the bedrock that kept them sane.
Then came the global hunt. The World Government Coalition's brutal, overwhelming campaign to eradicate the Division. Jäger, leading Cell 7, vanished in a storm of disinformation and overwhelming force somewhere over the Central Asian steppes. The official report, delivered with cold finality, declared him KIA. Irrecoverable.
For Kelso, it was as if a vital organ had been ripped from her. The bedrock crumbled. The cause, once so clear, became a bitter taste in her mouth. She went through the motions, following orders, securing sectors, but the vibrant core of her being was a dead weight. The grief wasn't a sudden explosion; it was a slow, consuming fire, burning away her belief in the system that had declared her husband a ghost.
She refused to accept it. Not truly. Faye Kelso, the unwavering pragmatist, became driven by an irrational hope. There was no body, no definitive proof, just a government desperate to close a chapter. She poured herself into unofficial channels, chasing whispers, leveraging old contacts, building a network in the shadows that was loyal only to her. She amassed favors, called in debts, and sacrificed whatever remained of her personal life for the singular, desperate pursuit of truth. She became as much a ghost as Jäger, operating off-grid, compiling data sets that contradicted official reports, looking for the tell-tale signs of a man too dangerous, too brilliant, to simply disappear. Her new cause was not the continuity of government; it was the continuity of a single, stubborn hope.
Her network grew, pulling in disaffected agents, disillusioned intelligence operatives, and those who, like her, saw the truth behind the curtain. Rex was one of them. A former analyst with deep ties, impeccable sourcing, and a loyalty to Kelso that transcended any official allegiance. He became her eyes and ears in the parts of the world she couldn't reach, her most trusted confidante in the labyrinthine hunt. She clung to every shred of information, every unconfirmed sighting, every anomalous signature. The hope was a torment, but it was also the only thing keeping her moving.
When Rex reported his recovery of The Viper and her desperate, fevered claim of seeing a live Division agent in Johor Bahru, a specific, chilling name kept repeating in The Viper's delirium: Jäger.
Kelso's world, already a shattered mosaic, tilted on its axis. The rational part of her screamed for caution, for confirmation. But the raw, aching part, the part that had grieved in silence for years, roared with a terrible, exhilarating certainty. It was him. It had to be.
Rex, knowing her too well, had tried to manage it. He'd brought Jäger to Keener's submarine, a safe house only a few knew existed, planning to vet the situation, to understand the complex new alliances and threats before revealing the impossible truth. He wanted to spare her the pain of false hope, or worse, of rushing into a situation that would endanger them all.
But Kelso's intuition, sharpened by years of desperate searching, led her to the submarine. She had tracked Rex, sensing his urgency, her finely tuned instincts overriding his attempts at concealment. She heard the voices, the unmistakable timbre of her husband's voice, through the thin bulkhead. The years of quiet suffering, of relentless searching, culminated in that single, gut-wrenching moment.
And then, the confirmation from The Viper. It wasn't just hope anymore. It was certainty. A dangerous, all-consuming certainty that ignited the fire she thought had long burned out. Jäger was alive. And now, Kelso would move heaven and earth, alliances be damned, to reach him.