Chapter 6 - Shadows on the Paseo
The crisp Spanish air hit us like a cool glass of water as we stepped out of Terminal 4 into the bright Madrid morning.
After checking into a boutique hotel off the Gran Vía—a quiet, sunlit room with tall wooden shutters opening onto a cobblestone side street—Leo practically bounced on the mattress before crashing hard from jet lag. I pulled the heavy drapes closed, leaving a sliver of golden Iberian sunlight cutting across the floorboards, and sat down at the small writing desk by the window.
My laptop hummed quietly as I opened it, checking my emails. Everything back at Columbia University was quiet. The dean of aerospace engineering had no idea his mild-mannered professor of composite materials had spent the previous night dodging interceptors over the Atlantic.
My phone buzzed against the wood. An encrypted text message from an unfamiliar international number.
> “Spectre. Debrief logs from Lajes Command have been scrubbed, but the civil aviation board is asking questions about the unlogged frequency override in sector 4. You left a digital fingerprint.”
I stared at the screen, my heart rate spiking with old, familiar tactical discipline. The military hadn't forgotten me as easily as I had hoped.
I typed back a swift, secure reply: “Route the telemetry through civilian emergency override protocols under standard commercial safety indemnity. Close the loop.”
Within two minutes, a reply flashed back: “Loop closed. Enjoy your vacation, Major.”
May you like
I locked the screen, exhaled slowly, and rubbed the back of my neck. Even when you bury a ghost, the shadow sometimes stretches a little further than you expect.
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