The cave stank of damp stone and bat droppings. Water trickled from cracks in the ceiling, dripping steadily into shallow pools that echoed like a ticking clock. Cross crouched against the wall, rifle across his lap, eyes fixed on the woman who had just turned his world upside down.
Elena.
She leaned against the cave wall as though she belonged there, as if bullets and helicopters hadn't been trying to tear them apart minutes ago. In the dim glow of Cross's flashlight, her face was sharp, almost too perfect—cheekbones cut like glass, eyes cool and steady.
Reyes groaned, clutching his bandaged leg. His breathing was ragged, pain written across his face. "Sarge… what the hell is going on out there? Who are these guys?"
Cross's jaw tightened. "That's what I'm about to find out."
He shifted the flashlight beam onto Elena. "Start talking. Now."
Her lips curved faintly. "You don't waste time with pleasantries, do you?"
"Not when my men are dead," Cross snapped. His voice cracked louder than he intended, echoing in the cavern. "Not when someone set us up."
Elena didn't flinch. She holstered her pistol, folding her arms. "Victor Kane. That name mean anything to you?"
Cross froze. The flashlight trembled just slightly in his grip.
Reyes looked up weakly. "Kane? The arms dealer? I thought—"
"That he was dead?" Elena finished for him. She tilted her head. "That's what everyone thought. Including Cross."
Cross's blood went cold. Images flashed through his mind—smoke rising over a desert outpost, men screaming over radio static, Kane's convoy going up in flames. That mission had been buried, classified, sealed away in the shadows of black ops. No one outside his old unit should have known.
"How do you know about that?" Cross demanded.
Elena stepped closer, her voice dropping low. "Because I was there, Sergeant. Different side of the war, but same battlefield. I saw what you did to Kane. And now he wants you to pay for it."
Cross gritted his teeth. "We had intel Kane was moving chemical weapons. He slaughtered civilians. I did my job."
"You destroyed his empire," Elena said sharply, her calm mask cracking for the first time. "And Kane doesn't forgive. He rebuilds. He hunts."
Reyes coughed, trying to sit up. "So this whole mission—tracking that convoy—it was never real?"
Elena gave him a glance almost like pity. "The convoy was bait. Kane knew Cross would take it. He knew command would send him. You walked into his trap the second you left base."
Cross's fists clenched until his knuckles whitened. Command knew. Someone fed him to Kane.
Outside, the thump of helicopter blades faded into the distance. For now, they were safe. But not for long.
Cross took a deep breath, forcing down the rage boiling in his chest. He looked Elena straight in the eye.
"You've had plenty of chances to kill me," he said. "So tell me—why are you helping me instead?"
For the first time, Elena's confident façade flickered. She looked away, her voice quieter.
"Because I used to work for him."
Silence crashed down heavier than gunfire. Even the dripping water seemed to stop.
Cross's grip tightened on his rifle. "You'd better explain that. Fast."
Elena's eyes met his again, steel returning to her gaze. "Help me take Kane down, and you'll have your answers. But if you want to survive the night…" She pulled a folded map from her jacket, spreading it on the cave floor. Red marks littered the jungle like bloodstains.
"…you're going to need me."