Updated Feb 18, 2026 • ~5 min read
WILLA
Day twelve.
I’m grading papers when I hear it.
Footsteps outside my apartment.
Not Archer’s.
Heavier. Multiple people.
My blood runs cold.
I text Archer immediately.
“Someone’s outside my door.”
His response is instant.
“Stay inside. Lock the door. I’m coming.”
I lock the deadbolt.
Grab the pepper spray from my purse.
Step back from the door.
The handle jiggles.
Someone’s trying to get in.
Then I hear Archer’s voice.
“FBI! Hands where I can see them!”
Scuffling. Shouting. A gunshot.
I scream.
Silence.
Then Archer’s voice: “Willa! It’s me! Open the door!”
I unlock it with shaking hands.
Archer is there.
Gun drawn.
Two men on the ground.
Unconscious.
“Are you okay?”
I nod.
Can’t speak.
He steps inside.
Holsters his gun.
Pulls me into his arms.
“You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
I’m shaking.
Full-body trembling.
“They were going to take me.”
“I didn’t let them.”
“You shot—”
“Warning shot. They’re alive. FBI is on the way.”
Sirens in the distance.
Getting closer.
Tobias arrives with a full team.
Takes the two men into custody.
Secures the building.
“Malcolm’s getting bold,” he says.
“Too bold,” Archer replies. “This was sloppy. Desperate.”
“Or a distraction.”
Both men tense.
“Distraction from what?” I ask.
Tobias and Archer exchange looks.
“From the real target,” Tobias says.
Archer’s face goes pale.
“Marcus.”
He’s already dialing.
Phone rings.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Voicemail.
“Fuck. FUCK.”
He tries again.
Nothing.
“Where is he?” Tobias asks.
“Arizona. Scottsdale safe house.”
“I’ll send local units.”
But we all know it might be too late.
Archer is pacing.
Frantic.
I’ve never seen him like this.
“He’s fine,” I say. “He has to be fine.”
“You don’t know Malcolm. He doesn’t bluff. If he’s going after Marcus, it’s because he knows it’ll hurt me more than anything else.”
His phone rings.
Unknown number.
He answers on speaker.
“Agent Saint. I believe you’re looking for someone.”
Malcolm.
“Where is he?”
“Safe. For now. But that could change.”
“If you hurt him—”
“You’ll what? Kill me? We both know you won’t. You’re FBI. You follow rules.”
“Try me.”
Silence.
Then: “I’ll give you a choice. Marcus for Willa. Straight trade. You pick which one I take.”
My stomach drops.
“No deal.”
“No? You’d let your partner die?”
“I’d let YOU die before I hand over either of them.”
“Brave words. Let’s see if you mean them.”
He sends coordinates.
“Midnight. Old warehouse on the docks. Come alone. Bring Willa. I’ll bring Marcus. We trade. Then we’re done.”
“How do I know you’ll let them go?”
“You don’t. But what choice do you have?”
He hangs up.
Archer turns to Tobias.
“It’s a trap.”
“Obviously.”
“But we have to go.”
“We?”
“I’m not sending Willa alone.”
I step forward.
“I’ll do it. I’ll go.”
“No—”
“If it saves Marcus, I’ll do it.”
“Willa—”
“He’s your partner. Your brother. You’d do the same for me.”
Archer’s jaw clenches.
Because I’m right.
He would.
“We’re not trading anyone,” Tobias says. “We’re going in with full tactical support. SWAT. Snipers. The works.”
“Malcolm will see them coming.”
“Then we’ll be subtle.”
Planning takes hours.
Entry points. Positions. Contingencies.
I sit on Archer’s couch.
Listening.
Terrified.
When they’re done, Tobias leaves to coordinate.
Archer sits beside me.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No. You could go into protective custody right now. Disappear. Be safe.”
“And let Marcus die? And never see you again?”
“You’d be alive.”
“I don’t want to just be alive. I want to LIVE. With you. After this is over.”
He pulls me close.
“I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“Neither can you. But we’re doing this anyway.”
He kisses me.
Desperate. Hungry. Scared.
Like it might be the last time.
“When this is over,” he says against my lips, “I’m taking you to Paris.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
We spend the hours before midnight together.
Not talking much.
Just holding each other.
Memorizing every detail.
Just in case.
At 11:30, we suit up.
I get a vest. A wire. An earpiece.
Archer checks my gear three times.
“Stay behind me. Always. If shooting starts, you run. Don’t look back. Don’t try to help. Just run.”
“Archer—”
“Promise me.”
I can’t.
Because I won’t leave him.
No matter what happens.
But I nod anyway.
Let him believe I’ll be safe.
We drive to the docks.
Tobias and the team are already in position.
Invisible. Waiting.
Midnight arrives.
We walk into the warehouse.
Empty. Dark. Echoing.
Then lights flood on.
Malcolm stands in the center.
Tall. Dangerous. Smiling.
And beside him, tied to a chair: Marcus.
Alive. Conscious. Bleeding.
“Agent Saint. Ms. Crane. Welcome.”
Archer’s gun is already drawn.
Pointed at Malcolm.
“Let him go.”
“Where’s my trade?”
“There is no trade. You let Marcus go, and maybe I let you live.”
Malcolm laughs.
“You’re outnumbered.”
He signals.
Six men appear from the shadows.
All armed.
Shit.
“Last chance,” Archer says. “Let him go.”
“Or what?”
Archer’s finger tightens on the trigger.
“Or I end this right now.”
Malcolm’s smile widens.
“Do it then. Kill me. Become just like the criminals you chase.”
Archer doesn’t move.
And that’s when Malcolm makes his move.
Pulls a gun.
Points it at Marcus’s head.
“Drop your weapon. Or he dies.”
Archer’s eyes meet mine.
Full of agony.
Full of choice.
He can’t save both of us.
And we both know it.
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