CHAPTER 32

The Rogue Operatives

The air was thick with tension as we drove through the backroads in silence, the engine's low hum the only sound between us. My ribs still ached from the warehouse explosion, but I wasn't sure if the pain came from the impact or the weight pressing down on my chest. Julian's voice still echoed in my head.

"I've been watching the entire time."

I gritted my teeth, staring out the window. I had spent months running, trying to disappear, but Julian had never really lost sight of me. He had let me run. Let me think I was free. And now, he was tightening the leash.

Next to me, Riley tapped her fingers against the dashboard, her restless energy crackling like a live wire. "You good?"

I didn't answer. What was I supposed to say? That every part of me screamed that this was a mistake? That trusting Marcus, trusting anyone, was a risk I wasn't sure I could afford?

She sighed. "Nathan."

I exhaled sharply. "I'll be good when I know what the hell we just walked into."

Up front, Marcus smirked at my reflection in the rearview mirror. "Then you're about to have a hell of a night."

We pulled up to a hidden bunker, camouflaged beneath a rundown auto shop on the outskirts of the city. As the heavy doors groaned open, my instincts were already scanning for exits, escape routes, weaknesses. Old habits died hard.

The inside was a stark contrast to the exterior—polished concrete, steel reinforcements, dim lighting casting long shadows over the high-tech equipment lining the walls. It was organized, efficient. A war room.

And the people inside?

They weren't civilians.

Every movement was precise, measured. Eyes that had seen too much, hands that had done worse. They were ghosts of their former lives, just like me.

A tall woman with cropped blonde hair leaned against a table, arms crossed. Her gaze flicked over me, assessing. "So, this is him?"

Marcus nodded. "Nathan Vale. The man Julian fears most."

I scoffed. "That makes two of us."

She smirked. "Name's Serena. I don't do small talk, so let's cut to it—we need you."

I hated that word. Need.

Riley stepped forward. "Hold on. You expect us to just jump into whatever war you're fighting? We don't even know what your endgame is."

Marcus grabbed a remote, clicking a button. A massive screen flickered to life, displaying news reports, surveillance footage, and classified documents. My stomach twisted as I saw my own face flash across the screen—grainy security footage of me exiting a burning building, headlines labeling me as a traitor, a terrorist.

Julian had been busy.

"He's painting you as the villain," Marcus said. "A fugitive who betrayed his own country. Attacks have already started—government buildings, military compounds. All staged, all pinned on you."

I clenched my fists. "Son of a bitch."

Serena gestured to the footage. "This is just the start. Julian is orchestrating a crisis that will force governments to rely on The Oath for security. He's creating a world where fear controls everything—and you? You're the perfect scapegoat."

Riley swore under her breath. "If the world thinks Nathan's the enemy, how the hell do we fight back?"

Marcus smiled grimly. "We change the story."

The room fell into a heavy silence. The weight of their words settled over me like a noose. I wasn't just a fugitive—I was the face of Julian's war.

"You want me to lead you," I said flatly.

Marcus nodded. "You have the experience. The knowledge. The motivation."

I let out a bitter laugh. "No. You don't want me. You want the idea of me. The man I used to be."

Serena tilted her head. "And who are you now?"

I swallowed hard. That was the real question, wasn't it?

I didn't answer. Instead, I turned, staring at the screen, at the destruction Julian had left in his wake.

For years, I had convinced myself I had escaped his shadow. But the truth? I had never been free. Julian was always a step ahead, always in control.

I flexed my fingers, my mind a battlefield of past and present. I could walk away now. Disappear. Let someone else fight this war.

But the thought of Julian winning?

Of innocent people suffering while he tightened his grip?

It made my blood burn.

Riley touched my arm, grounding me. "Nathan, I know you don't trust them. I don't either. But you said it yourself—Julian doesn't lose." Her voice softened. "Unless we make him."

I inhaled slowly.

This wasn't about revenge.

It was about finishing what I started.

I turned to Marcus. "I don't lead. Not anymore."

Marcus held my gaze, unreadable. "That's your answer?"

"It's my truth."

He exhaled, nodding slightly. "Fair enough."

I should have felt relieved.

But the way Serena and the others exchanged glances?

I knew this fight wasn't over.

And neither was my role in it.

As we turned to leave, Marcus spoke one last time.

"You don't have to lead, Nathan. But when the time comes? You better be ready to fight."