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“How long will that take?”

“About two hours to compile everything.” Elena’s hands moved across multiple keyboards. “The virus is hidden deep in the file structure. They won’t find it unless they know exactly what to look for, and even then, it’s encrypted with Cal’s custom code.”

Brock pulled up a chair and watched her work. “You’re good at this.”

“I’ve been doing it for seven years,” Elena said without looking up. “Cal trained me well.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Brock’s voice was quiet. “I mean you’re strong. Capable. You’ve built a life here despite everything that happened to you. That takes courage.”

Elena’s hands stilled for a moment. “I don’t feel very courageous.”

“That’s because you don’t give yourself enough credit.” Brock leaned back in his chair. “You survived something that would have destroyed most people. You learned new skills, built new relationships. You’re about to walk back into the place of your worst nightmares to save someone you love. That’s not weakness, Elena. That’s strength.”

She blinked back tears and forced herself to focus on the screen. “Thank you,” she whispered.

They worked in silence, Elena building the complex data structure while Brock made quiet phone calls coordinating with the team. Finally, Elena sat back.

“Done,” she said. “The flash drive has everything. One terabyte of data that looks exactly like what they’re asking for—complete access to the Dynamis network, agent identities, mission files, classified government contracts. But it’s all fake. Carefully constructed to pass inspection, but worthless to them.”

“And the virus?”

“Embedded and ready to deploy the moment they plug this into their mainframe.” Elena held up the small flash drive. “This little thing is going to bring down their entire operation.”

Brock stood and helped her to her feet. “Then let’s go pack for Mexico. We’ve got a honeymoon to pretend to take.”

Elena pocketed the flash drive. “Brock?”

“Yeah?”

“When this is over…when Marguerite is safe…” She struggled to find the words. “I want to try. To be better at letting people in.”

Brock’s expression softened. “You’re already that person, Elena. You just don’t see it yet.”

Then he kissed her—soft and brief, but full of promise.

When he pulled back, Elena felt something shift inside her chest. Hope, maybe. Or possibility.

“Come on,” Brock said, taking her hand. “We’ve got a plane to catch.”

As they left the tech vault, Elena squeezed his hand. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she might actually survive what came next.

And maybe, just maybe, she’d do more than survive.

Maybe she’d actually live.

Chapter Five

Elena stood in her bedroom, staring at the open suitcase on her bed. What did someone pack for a fake honeymoon that would end in either rescue or death?

“You’re overthinking it,” Brock said from the doorway.

She turned. He’d changed into khaki cargo pants and a navy henley that showed off his athletic build. His go-bag sat at his feet, looking half the size of what she was trying to pack.

“I’ve never done this before,” she admitted.

“Been on a honeymoon or rescued someone from a Mexican cartel?”

Despite everything, Elena felt her lips twitch. “Both, actually.”