Chapter 7
Holt’s voice softened just a fraction.
“Copy. Security team is moving.”
Below, Mercer’s team had reached the ravine exit.
But the enemy had one final move.
A truck burst from behind the far rocks, mounted gun swinging toward the wounded SEAL.
The team was exposed.
Cassidy shifted her rifle.
Her angle was narrow.
Too narrow for a normal shot.
The driver kept weaving through the rocks.
The gunner locked onto Mercer.
Cassidy inhaled.
The whole canyon seemed to hold its breath with her.
She fired.
The truck swerved hard and smashed into the side of the ravine.
The mounted gun spun away from the SEALs.
Mercer looked up at the mountain.
He still couldn’t see her.
But this time, he raised two fingers to his helmet.
A silent thank-you.
Extraction birds arrived eight minutes later.
The SEALs boarded under covering fire.
Cassidy stayed on the ridge until the last helicopter lifted.
Until the last wounded man was inside.
Until the valley finally belonged to dust again.
Only then did she move.
When she reached the forward base at dusk, nobody knew whether to salute her or arrest her.
She walked through the hangar with her rifle case in one hand, dust in her hair, and dried blood on one sleeve from a cut she had never felt.
Lieutenant Mercer was waiting with his arm in a sling.
His team stood behind him.
All four alive.
Bandaged.
Exhausted.
Staring at her like they had seen a ghost step into the light.
Mercer looked at her name tape.
WALKER.
His face changed.
“You’re Cassidy Walker.”
She said nothing.
He glanced at his men.
“The Walker from Grey Ridge?”
Cassidy’s expression tightened.
May you like
That name still hurt.
Read Part 8 to see what happened when the SEALs realized the ghost story was real.
