Updated Feb 18, 2026 • ~5 min read
ARCHER
She’s gone.
Just… gone.
I tracked her phone for ten minutes.
Then it went dead.
Malcolm has her.
I know he has her.
“We’ll find her,” Tobias says.
But he doesn’t sound convinced.
I’m pacing.
Can’t sit still.
Can’t think straight.
This is my fault.
I should have told her.
Should have been honest from the beginning.
But I was following orders.
Protecting the operation.
Doing my job.
And now the woman I love is in the hands of a psychopath.
My phone rings.
Unknown number.
I answer immediately.
“Malcolm.”
“Agent Saint. Or should I say, former Agent Saint? I heard you retired. Congratulations.”
“Where is she?”
“Safe. For now.”
“If you hurt her—”
“You’ll what? You’re not FBI anymore. You have no authority. No backup. No leverage.”
He’s right.
But I don’t care.
“What do you want?”
“I want you. Same as before. You for her. Straight trade.”
“Fine. Tell me where.”
“Eager. I like it. But there’s a catch this time.”
“What catch?”
“You come alone. Really alone. No FBI. No backup. No wire. Just you. Or I kill her.”
Tobias is shaking his head.
Mouthing: “Don’t do it.”
But what choice do I have?
“Okay. Where?”
He gives me coordinates.
“One hour. Don’t be late.”
He hangs up.
“You’re not seriously considering this,” Tobias says.
“I am.”
“It’s a trap.”
“I know.”
“You’ll die.”
“Maybe. But if I don’t go, Willa definitely dies.”
“We can send a team—”
“He’ll see them coming. You know he will.”
Tobias runs a hand over his face.
“This is suicide.”
“This is love.”
I grab my gear.
Gun. Knife. Vest.
“Archer—”
“I have to do this, Tobias. If I don’t, I’ll never forgive myself. And neither will you. You know Willa. You know she doesn’t deserve this.”
He’s quiet for a long moment.
“Take the tracker. At least let us know where you are.”
“He’ll check for that.”
“Not the subdermal one. We can inject it. He won’t find it without an X-ray.”
Good idea.
“Fine. Do it.”
They inject a tracker chip under my skin.
Upper arm.
Small. Invisible.
“We’ll follow at a distance. If things go bad—”
“They’re already bad.”
I drive to the coordinates.
Abandoned factory.
Of course.
Malcolm loves his dramatic locations.
I check my weapons.
One last time.
Then I walk in.
Malcolm is waiting.
Center of the room.
Willa beside him.
Tied up. Gagged. Terrified.
But alive.
Relief floods through me.
“Agent Saint. Punctual. I appreciate that.”
“I’m here. Let her go.”
“Not yet. First, weapons. All of them.”
I set down my gun.
Backup gun.
Knife.
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
Malcolm nods to someone behind me.
I turn.
Too late.
Pain explodes across my head.
Everything goes black.
I wake up tied to a chair.
Next to Willa.
My head is pounding.
Vision blurry.
“Archer!” Willa’s voice. Muffled through the gag.
I look at her.
She’s crying.
“I’m sorry,” I manage. “I’m so sorry.”
Malcolm appears.
Smiling.
“Touching. Really. The two of you together. Almost makes me feel bad about what I’m going to do.”
“Almost?”
“Not quite.”
He walks around us.
Circling.
“You know, I thought about just killing you both. Quick. Easy. But that felt… insufficient. After everything you’ve put me through.”
“Your father put you through it. By being a criminal.”
Wrong thing to say.
Malcolm hits me.
Hard.
Blood fills my mouth.
“Don’t talk about my father.”
“Or what? You’ll kill me? You’re going to do that anyway.”
“True. But I’ll make it hurt more.”
He pulls out a knife.
Shit.
“I’m going to hurt her first. Make you watch. And then I’m going to kill you. Slowly.”
He moves toward Willa.
I struggle against the restraints.
“Touch her and I swear to God—”
“You’ll what? You’re tied up. Helpless. Just like she was three years ago when my father’s men grabbed her. Poetic, isn’t it?”
He reaches for Willa.
And that’s when the windows shatter.
FBI raid.
Tobias kept his word.
Chaos erupts.
Flashbangs. Smoke. Shouting.
Malcolm runs.
Again.
FBI agents swarm in.
Cut us free.
“You okay?” One asks Willa.
She nods.
But she’s shaking.
I try to stand.
Head wound makes me dizzy.
“Where’s Malcolm?”
“He escaped. Again. Out the back.”
Of course he did.
Paramedics arrive.
Check us both.
Willa has bruises. Rope burns. But nothing serious.
I have a concussion. Possible skull fracture.
They want to take me to the hospital.
“No. I’m fine.”
“Sir, you need medical attention—”
“I said I’m fine.”
I look for Willa.
She’s wrapped in a blanket.
Talking to Tobias.
I approach.
“Willa—”
She flinches.
Actually flinches.
That hurts more than the head wound.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
Cold. Distant.
“Willa, please. I know you’re angry. But we need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. You lied. You used me. And I almost died because of it.”
“That’s not fair—”
“Fair? You want to talk about fair? I trusted you. I loved you. And you lied to me.”
Every word is a knife.
“I was protecting you.”
“By lying? By using me as bait?”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“Everyone has a choice, Archer. You chose the operation over me.”
She walks away.
Gets into an FBI car.
Leaves.
Without looking back.
I stand there.
Bleeding. Concussed. Alone.
And I realize:
I lost her.
Reader Reactions