Collateral Heat

“Heading Northwest into the forest. Suspect on foot,” the radio chirped in my ear.

The trees passed me by in a blur of deep greens and shadows. No one had seen me come in—of that much, I was sure. My team and I had been tracking this target for weeks, and I needed to reach him before—

Where did he go?

I skidded to a halt in a damp clearing, leaves crunching under my boots. I raised my weapon, sweeping the treeline, but the woods were dead quiet.

Until a voice spoke right behind my right ear.

“You’re sloppy, Vicky. Still stepping on dry twigs.”

My heart spiked. I spun on my heel, bringing my pistol up, only to find the barrel of a Glock pointed directly between my eyes.

Julian.

My former partner. My ex-boyfriend. The single biggest mistake currently occupying my shame box.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I said, my finger hovering over the trigger.

Before he could answer, the heat hit my back before the roar did. Orange light flooded the canopy above us, dry pine popping like heavy gunfire. Flames ripped through the brush behind me in a wave of blinding radiation, instantly vaporizing my path back to my rig.

We were caught in a death trap.

Julian didn't even flinch. He holstered his piece in one fluid motion, reached through the blinding smoke, and extended a hand across the unspoken line we’d drawn between us years ago.

"Move!" he barked over the deafening crackle of the blaze.

I held my ground, ash burning my throat, my weapon still leveled at his chest. "Give me one good reason to trust you!"

"Because you can shoot me when we're breathing!" he snapped.

Before I could pull away, his fingers locked around my forearm like an iron cuff. He yanked me across the boundary, dragging me off the trail and straight into the dark mouth of a storm drain hidden beneath a weave of exposed roots.

The imaginary wall between us melted the second his grip locked around my wrist. Now, I was just along for the ride as the fire raced across the canopy to swallow us whole.

“Jump now!” he yelled.

Before my brain could process the drop, we plummeted off a small cliff face, plunging straight into the icy water below.

The impact knocked the remaining air straight out of my lungs. I broke the surface sputtering, kicking against the current as embers rained down onto the churning water around us.

“This was your plan?!” I yelled, wiping river water from my eyes.

“Forgive me for saving you from being barbecued!” he called back, already treading water a few feet ahead.

He was just as insufferable as ever. I didn’t know what I’d seen in him a few years ago, but whatever it was, I was actively trying to forget it.

“Follow me,” he ordered, turning into the current.

For a moment, I just stayed put, treading water. Would trusting him this one time be that bad? I’d trusted him back then, and he had—

“Did you not hear me?” he called out without looking back.

After this is all over, I’m paying someone to fill his house with lawn gnomes.

I started swimming after his silhouette. He was only a few feet in front of me when he suddenly vanished beneath the dark water. Before I could process where he'd gone, a heavy grip clamped around my ankle and pulled me straight down.

Panic flared. Goosebumps erupted across my skin from the frigid temperature as he dragged me deeper into the murk. I couldn't see anything—just swirling shadows and bubbles.

My lungs screamed for oxygen. My vision began to narrow, dark spots blooming at the edges. I can't hold it—

Just as my senses faded, he shoved me upward. My head broke into a pocket of trapped air, and I hauled myself onto a narrow rock shelf, coughing uncontrollably.

“What is your problem?!” I gasped, my chest heaving as I spat out salt water.

“You wouldn’t have followed me otherwise,” Julian said coolly, climbing out of the water onto the ledge above me. "Do they even do water training at your agency anymore? That wasn’t even a minute, and you were on the verge of blacking out."

I pushed myself up against the slick rock, my fingers scraping against damp moss and barnacles. Every ragged breath tasted like salt and pine smoke.

"I was waiting for you to give a dive signal," I wheezed, shoving matted hair out of my face. "Not grab my leg like a river monster!"

He clicked on a small waterproof flashlight. The harsh beam cut through the pitch-black cavern, illuminating dripping stalactites. Naturally, he didn't even look winded.

"Signals take time, and you were hesitating." He offered a hand down to pull me up onto the dry shelf, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "Now, are you going to sit there and freeze, or are we going to figure out who just tried to turn us into charcoal?"

I slapped his hand away, hauling myself up onto the dry stone out of pure spite. "I don't need your help."

I stood on the ledge, shivering violently, and gestured to the pitch-black tunnel stretching out behind him. “You dragged me into a dark hole where no one knows I am. Give me one good reason I shouldn't think you set that fire to trap me in here.”

Julian let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, dragging his palm down his face.

"Vicky," he breathed, dropping his hand and looking straight at me. "I need you to..." He took a beat, his jaw tightening as if the admission physically pained him. "I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry about what happened when we worked together. But I need you to realize that right now, we have a bigger problem."

The intensity in his eyes burned with the same heat as the fire raging outside.

I held his gaze for a long second, my pride warring with survival. "Just this once, we can be amicable. Only because you helped me."

“Sure. Whatever,” he muttered, turning around. “Just follow me.”

He led me down a narrow stone passage that sloped upward, away from the water.

“This is a fallback bunker,” he explained as his flashlight beam bounced off reinforced concrete walls. “I found it on an op a few years ago. Stashed some supplies here just in case.”

His 'just in case' amounted to a solitary, battered suitcase sitting on a rusted folding table.

A heavy terrycloth towel suddenly slapped me square in the face.

While I was temporarily blinded, the flashlight beam swung up, cutting right across my eyes as the fabric fell away.

"Hey!" I clawed the towel off my face and glared at him through the blinding spots in my vision.

Julian held the light low, illuminating the lower half of his face. Water dripped from his chin, but his expression remained infuriatingly calm. He looked fine—better than he had any right to after escaping an inferno and an underwater dive. His dark hair was plastered back, and the harsh light highlighted faint shadows under his eyes that hadn't been there five years ago. He was exhausted, but his dark eyes remained as sharp and calculating as ever.

No. Stop it. We are not doing that.

I caught a glimpse of my own reflection in the metallic strip of the emergency kit on the table. My hair was a matted, sandy mess sticking to my neck. My tactical jacket was torn at the shoulder, and a streak of black soot was painted across my left cheekbone. I looked like a walking disaster. Julian didn't say a word, but I could feel his eyes tracing the damage, perfectly aware of what he was thinking.

“We know who did this,” I said sharply, aggressively rubbing the towel over my hair to break his gaze.

“Sure, it’s obvious,” Julian replied, tossing a dry shirt onto the table. “But how did they manage to put us in the exact same grid at the exact same minute?”

"'Obvious,' he says," I muttered under my breath. "He’s the most oblivious person I've ever met, but sure, it’s obvious."

“The only way that happens,” I said louder, glaring at him, “is if both our handlers were fed the exact same Intel on the suspect.”

“Impossible,” Julian said, pacing the narrow length of the concrete room. “Our agencies operate on completely isolated networks. My team wouldn't leave me exposed like that.”

“Ugh... use your brain, Julian. Someone fed both sides false coordinates.”

We locked eyes. The truth hung between us in the cold bunker air—a realization we’d both missed because we were too busy holding grudges and aiming guns at each other’s heads.

“Your hatred of me is affecting my work,” he said with utter disgust, turning his back on me.

“Excuse me?” The absolute audacity of this man. “You’re the one who lost his temper in Prague!”

“Don’t start,” he said, waving a dismissive hand as he walked toward the far corner of the bunker.

I stared at the back of his head, incredulous. I must be in some sort of sick comedy show to be stuck with this idiot.

Before I could launch into a full breakdown of his tactical flaws, a high-pitched static whine burst from the suitcase on the table.

We both froze.

The emergency radio Julian had stashed years ago was crackling to life. An automated, synthesized voice broke through the white noise:

“Operation Wildfire confirmed. Targets Alpha and Bravo suppressed at site. Commencing cleanup.”

My breath hitched. "Targets Alpha and Bravo..."

"That's us," Julian whispered. The smug arrogance melted off his face, replaced instantly by the cold, lethal focus of the partner I used to know.

He reached over, flicked the radio off, and looked up at me.

"Whoever set that fire thinks we're dead at the bottom of the lake," I said quietly, the anger suddenly draining out of me, replaced by pure tactical coldness.

"Which means we have about two hours before they send a team down to look for our bodies," Julian added, stepping back toward the table. He picked up the spare weapon from his emergency stash and slid the magazine into place with a sharp clack.

He held my gaze, offering a slight, dangerous smirk—the same look he used to give me right before we blew a high-risk assignment wide open.

"So," Julian said softly. "Are we going to keep arguing about who ruined whose career, or are we going to go find out who put a hit on us?"

I snatched my damp pistol off the table, checked the chamber, and looked at him.

"We find them first," I said. "Then I go back to hating you."

Julian actually smiled—a real, genuine flash of white teeth through the soot on his face. "Deal. Cover the entrance. We move in five."