CHAPTER 34: KNOT ABOVE STABBING

There was a pecking order when it came to safe houses, and KAS, being who they were, always made sure that they were never in the same safe house too many times in a row. There was the military issued safe house, and then there was the ones that only the team knew about.

However, apparently, not even military-issued safe houses were really that safe.

This one in particular wasn’t much to look at from the outside—a squat, concrete-sided structure squished between two abandoned office buildings on the edge of City H’s eastern harbor district. But inside, it smelled like gun oil and burnt coffee, and that made it home.

The KAS team had just returned from Country K two days ago, and while the official handoff of supplies had gone smoothly, the quietness since then had felt... unnatural. Too still.

Lachlan knew better than to complain. Peace didn’t last in their line of work, and silence usually meant something ugly was warming up behind the scenes. Still, the stillness itched.

He pushed the back door open with his shoulder, a bag of takeout dangling from his gloved hand. The place was dim and warm, lit only by the kitchen fluorescents and the yellowed light of a reading lamp in the corner.

Alexei was exactly where Lachlan had left him—curled in the corner of the sagging couch with his boots on the coffee table and a crossword puzzle half-finished in one hand.

"Bring me something with actual meat this time?" he asked without looking up.

"Not if you’re gonna keep acting like a princess," Lachlan grinned, tossing a box toward him.

Alexei caught it one-handed, popped the lid, and took a sniff. "Burger. Better. I’ll allow it."

Zubair entered from the hallway just then, dressed in a dark long-sleeved shirt and joggers, hair still damp from a shower. He moved with the same unflinching precision he brought to every battlefield—like even walking across a living room was a calculated decision.

"Any word on when we’re getting orders?" he asked.

"Nope," Lachlan answered, flopping into a chair. "Just the usual ’stay sharp, stay ready’ bullshit."

Elias walked in from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. "Just means they’re waiting to see where the next fire starts."

"Speaking of fires," said a voice none of them recognized, "did someone leave the door unlocked, or is this how you greet guests now?"

Three heads snapped up in unison.

The man who strolled into the room didn’t look out of place. He wore a dark coat over military-grade cargo pants and a t-shirt so plain it could’ve been regulation. But his posture, his gait—too relaxed. Like he belonged everywhere.

Lachlan stood slowly, every muscle in his back tensing. "Noah?"

The man grinned and held his arms out wide, as if expecting applause. "Surprise."

No one moved.

"I thought you were still doing classified ghost-work for Country A," Zubair said flatly.

"I was," Noah nodded, then tossed a glance at Elias. "Then someone higher up decided I’d be better used here."

"You’re military?" Elias asked, eyes narrowing.

"Operative," Noah clarified. "They call us something fancy now, but I’m just a guy who follows orders."

Alexei didn’t speak, but he hadn’t moved from the couch. His eyes tracked Noah like a sniper lining up a shot he didn’t trust yet.

Lachlan exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. "What the hell are you doing here, mate?"

"Assignment change," Noah said casually. "I’m being reassigned. Effective immediately, I’m part of your unit."

Zubair’s jaw tightened. "Says who?"

"High command," Noah replied. "Name came from the top. They want tighter interforce cooperation between military branches. You know the song and dance."

"Convenient timing," Elias muttered.

"Timing’s got nothing to do with me," Noah said, flashing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I just go where I’m told. And lucky me—I get to work with the famous KAS boys. Thought I’d drop in before tomorrow’s briefing to introduce myself properly."

"You’ve already met me," Lachlan said, still not sitting back down.

"True," Noah said. "But I haven’t had the pleasure with the rest of the crew." He turned his head toward Alexei. "You must be the ghost."

"Snowflake," Alexei said flatly, still not moving.

Noah tilted his head. "Right. Sorry about that, mate."

"Everyone does," Alexei muttered, turning a page in his puzzle book but keeping his eyes on the stranger.

Zubair stepped forward. "Let’s get one thing clear," he said. "This isn’t a tourist post. You’re not here to relax. You’re here to work."

"Wouldn’t dream of anything else," Noah said, all fake humility.

"And we don’t trust easily."

"I wouldn’t expect you to," Noah said, unbothered. "But I’m sure we’ll get along. Eventually."

A silence settled in the room like fog—thick, quiet, and a little too dense to breathe easily.

Noah looked around, then raised an eyebrow. "No welcome beer?"

"We’re out," Elias lied smoothly.

"Pity," Noah chuckled. "Guess I’ll let you all settle back in. Just thought I’d introduce myself before tomorrow. I’ll see you boys at the morning debrief."

Without another word, he turned and walked out the same door he came through.

The lock clicked softly behind him.

No one spoke for a full thirty seconds.

Then Zubair said, "This wasn’t cleared with me."

"Wasn’t cleared with anyone," Elias muttered. "They dropped him in without protocol."

Lachlan dropped back into his chair, rubbing his temples. "This is going to be a problem."

"Only if he makes it one," Alexei murmured, still staring at the door. "But he will."

"I’ve worked with him before," Lachlan said slowly, voice low. "On and off. Special ops. He’s good. Too good. Knows how to fake whatever face people want to see. Always has a story ready. Always gets in close."

"And you didn’t think to mention this before?" Zubair asked, eyes narrowing.

"I didn’t know he was coming here," Lachlan snapped. "I wouldn’t have—" He stopped himself. "He shouldn’t be here."

"None of us think he should," Elias agreed, voice calm. "But that doesn’t matter. If command wants him in, he’s in."

"Then we watch him," Alexei said, folding his book closed.

"Like a hawk," Zubair agreed.

"And if he steps out of line?" Elias asked.

Zubair didn’t answer, but the silence was enough.

Lachlan didn’t say anything either. He leaned back, stared at the ceiling, and thought about the last time Noah had walked into a mission already knowing more than anyone else. He’d thought it was just Noah’s usual posturing. Until three men didn’t make it out.

He ran a hand down his face.

Something about this wasn’t right.

Something about him wasn’t right.

And he knew—deep down—that this wasn’t the last time he’d regret opening that damn door.