<b>8:02 </b>Fri<b>, </b>Sep <b>26 </b><b>T </b>


    Badass in Disguise


    <b>Chapter 229 </b>


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    <b>86 </b>


    The noise was deafening–helicopter des slicing through air, creating a constant whirring that made conversation nearly impossible. I pressed the phone harder against my ear<b>, </b>straining to hear Ethan’s voice on the other end.


    “You’re in a helicopter?” Ethan’s voice barely cut through the noise.


    “Yeah, borrowed it from Colonel Edwards,” I shouted back, my eyes fixed on theptop screen in front of me, where a small red dot pulsed steadily.


    “What happened? Where are you?”


    I shifted in the ufortable seat. “Ryan tracked the van to the outskirts<b>. </b>Found it abandoned with blood all over the seats.” My jaw clenched involuntarily. “They left in a hurry. The grass nearby was ttened–helicopternding pattern. They airlifted Zach out.”


    “And you’re following them?”


    “Max’s watch signal is still moving. Whoever has it keeps changing direction.” I nced at the pilot, a stone–faced military man Tristan had assigned to me. “There’s a military base near where I found the van. Colonel Edwards happened to be there, so I asked for a favor.”


    “Tristan was there too?”


    *Convenient, right? He even lent me a pilot and thisptop.” I tapped the military–gradeputer tracking the signal.


    “Where are they heading?” Ethan’s voice grew fainter beneath the helicopter noise.


    ‘Not sure yet.” I watched the signal’s erratic movement. “Listen<b>, </b>I can’t hear you. I’ll text.”


    I hung up and quickly typed: [How’s my brother?<b>] </b>


    Ethan’s response came secondster: [Multiple soft tissue contusions. No broken bones. Doctor says he’ll recoverpletely in about a week.]


    Relief washed through me. [Take care of him for me? And have someone retrieve my car.]


    [Where are you now? I’ming to you.]


    I smiled grimly at his persistence<b>. </b>[I’ll tell you when I’m sure. The signal keeps changing.]


    [Jade, this <b>is </b>clearly a trap.]


    [Don’t worry.]


    8:02 Fri, Sep 26 T


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    Aa 86


    I tucked the phone away and focused on the tracking system. Three hours passed before the helicopter needed to refuel. By then, the signal had crossed into a different flight path entirely.


    The pursuit continued for two days and one night. I changed helicopters twice, borrowed a private jet once, and finally realized we had crossed the U.S. border. The signal finally stopped moving in western Spain.


    “Cute,” I muttered, raising an eyebrow. “They really know how to pick their locations.”


    I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t used for years.


    “Lawrence?” I said when the call connected. “Long time no see. I need a favor.”


    Six hourster, I was on another private jet, courtesy of Night’s ck card.


    My phone rang as we began our descent. Lawrence’s name shed on the screen.


    “My men found the watch,” he said without preamble. “Bloody, discarded in an alley. No sign of your friend.”


    “Shit,” I muttered. “Any leads?”


    “There have been reports of strangers in the border region these past two days. My people are searching, but it’s a challenge. This area isn’t exactly friendly to outsiders asking questions.”


    “I appreciate it, Lawrence.”


    The alley where they’d discarded the watch was narrow and filthy, tucked between crumbling buildings in what could generously be called the less touristy part of town. Blood speckled the cobblestones–not enough to indicate a fatal wound, but enough to know Zach hadn’t gone quietly.


    I surveyed the slums stretching out around me. Densely packed, low buildings sprawled in every direction, home to thousands of people living on top of each other in poverty, Finding anyone here would be like finding a specific grain of sand on a beach.


    Unless Shadow Organization wanted to be found.


    They needed Zach alive as leverage against me, which was the onlyfort in this situation. But physical torture was definitely on the table, and Zach wasn’t the type to sit quietly and cooperate.


    Locals eyed me suspiciously as I walked through the narrow streets. I caught snippets of their whispered conversations.


    <b>8:02 </b>Fri<b>, </b><b>Sep 26 </b><b>T</b><b>… </b>


    “Duke Linden’s people are looking for someone.”


    “I hope it doesn’t involve us.”


    “They say it’s outsiders they’re looking for.”


    “Thank God.”


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