Trial And Error

Chapter Sixty-Three

Kian's POV

Kian's office felt smaller than usual, the walls seeming to close in as she hunched over the stack of reports scattered across her desk. Her muscles screamed in protest, begging for the release of a long run, but the paperwork wouldn't complete itself. She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the building tension, when three sharp knocks cut through the silence.

"Enter," she called without looking up, pen still moving across the page.

The familiar sound of polished shoes on linoleum made her pause. There was something distinctly official about those measured steps that didn't match her usual visitors. When she lifted her head to find Captain Bennett filling her doorway, Kian shot to her feet so quickly her chair nearly toppled.

"Sir, I wasn't expecting you."

"At ease, Lieutenant." Bennett's voice carried its usual authority, but there was an undercurrent of something else. Something that made her stomach tighten. "I should have given you notice."

Kian sank back into her chair, studying him as he settled into the seat across from her. The Captain's shoulders were rigid beneath his perfectly pressed uniform, his expression carved from stone. In three years of serving under him, she'd learned to read these subtle tells. Whatever had brought him here, it wasn't good.

"What can I help you with, sir?"

"How have you been?" he asked instead, his eyes sharp. "Truthfully."

"Better," she answered carefully. "Therapy's been helping. I'm starting to feel like myself again."

The grimace that flashed across his face made her blood run cold. Bennett was not a man who flinched easily.

"I need to tell you something, Shepard." He leaned forward, clasping his hands on her desk. "We've located Ghost."

The name alone sent ice through her veins. Kian felt the color drain from her face as bile burned the back of her throat. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, her office becoming a vacuum where even breathing felt impossible.

"We need you back over there, Shep. You're the only one who can positively ID him." Bennett's voice softened marginally, though his words hit like physical blows. "I know it's a lot. But your country needs you again. I wouldn't ask if I thought this would break you. You're stronger than any Marine I've ever met."

Kian's fingers curled into fists beneath her desk, knuckles white with strain. Every hard-won bit of progress, every nightmare she'd finally managed to sleep through, every moment of peace she'd carved out with Madison – it all seemed to crumble under the weight of Bennett's words.

"With all due respect, sir," she managed, her voice rougher than she intended, "you know what happened last time. What he did." Her hand unconsciously drifted to her scarred shoulder.

Bennett's expression softened fractionally. "I do. And believe me, Shepard, if there was any other way..." He pulled a manila folder from his briefcase, placing it on her desk with deliberate care. "We've tracked him to a compound in the mountains of Afghanistan. Intel suggests he's planning something big.."

The folder sat between them like a live grenade. Kian stared at it, remembering the taste of sand and blood, the bite of chains, the endless darkness punctuated by questions she refused to answer. She thought of Madison, who had only just learned the full truth of those scars she kissed with such tenderness.

"How long?" The words felt like gravel in her throat.

"Two weeks for mission prep. Then a month, maximum, on the ground." Bennett leaned back, giving her space. "You'd have complete operational control. Pick your own team. I've already spoken to Lucas – he's in if you are."