He Signed My Death Warrant
Pick one, General Morgan said, his voice a low gravel. They'll get you inside Ryker's inner circle.
I stared at the two names, both achingly familiar. The past, ugly and relentless, crashed over me like a tidal wave.
The first time I lived this moment, I chose Mia. She seemed so innocent, so pure.
But she ran straight to her brother, Marcus, my adoptive brother, and wept about how I was forcing her into the bed of our enemy. I had no defense. They threw me in the brig, and I died on the cold concrete floor after barbed hooks tore my flesh and jolts of electricity erased my name.
The second time, I chose Zoe, the sister I trusted most in the world.
She stole my credentials and presented them to Ryker as a sign of her loyalty. I only learned the truth as I was dying: she was the woman Carter had spent years searching for, the one who had supposedly saved his life long ago. That night, hunted as a traitor, I drowned in the suffocating darkness of a cargo ship's bilge, my body left to the river's cold embrace.
Now, I stood in the same sterile office again.
Under their expectant, calculating gazes, I tore the deployment order to shreds.
There's no need to choose, I said, my voice steady. I'm going myself.
1
Are you insane? I've spent years training you, Ava, not so you could throw your life away!
General Morgan slammed his palm on the desk, his hand shooting out to grip my wrist. The bones ground together, but I refused to flinch. I met his gaze, and for a fleeting second, I saw a flicker of something dark and predatory in his eyes.
Ava, please, don't do this just to make a point.
Mia stepped forward, her hand gently rubbing my back in a gesture of feigned comfort. Her voice was soft, but pitched to carry through the room.
Your injuries from the last mission haven't even fully healed. You still wake up screaming from the nightmares. We all understand. You don't have to prove anything.
A sudden, sharp silence fell over the office. Everyone here knew. They knew that during our last op, Id shielded her from an explosion, taking the blast that shattered both my legs and nearly left me for dead in the fire.
And now, here she was, carving open that wound in front of everyone and pouring salt into it with a sweet, concerned smile.
Is this some kind of martyrdom play? Zoe sneered from the side, her voice deliberately loud, guiding the room's suspicions. You know the General would never risk you, so you volunteer for the suicide mission to look brave. You've always been the master manipulator, Ava.
Whispers erupted around me. The gazes of the other officers felt like needles, pricking my skin. Disdain. Contempt. A sickening hint of satisfaction.
I bit down on my lip, the coppery taste of blood blooming on my tongue, but it couldn't quell the rage churning in my gut.
The door was abruptly pushed open. Carter stood there, his dress uniform crisp and imposing. He ignored the confetti of the shredded order on the floor, his eyes locking directly onto mine.
I approved that order, Ava. Are you going to be insubordinate again?
A knot tightened in my chest, a phantom hand squeezing the air from my lungs. Every breath was a sour, aching thing.
It was always like this. No questions, no chance to explain. Just the immediate assumption of my guilt. In my last life, it was this reflexive distrust that had pushed me, step by agonizing step, into the abyss.
I wrenched my arm from the General's grasp. There's a problem with the order. Mia, she
Enough! Carter's voice was a whip crack. He closed the distance between us in a single stride, leaning in close, his voice a venomous whisper in my ear.
You'll spin any lie, won't you? You're that desperate to get to Ryker.
His words turned my blood to ice. My hands began to tremble uncontrollably. I snapped my head up to look at him, and the raw hatred in his eyes was a physical blow.
He remembered. He had lived it all, too.
Mia returned from the adjoining kitchenette, holding a mug. Carter, don't be angry with her. Ava is just
She didn't finish. Her foot slipped, and the scalding hot coffee cascaded over my hand and forearm. The searing pain was immediate, a visceral echo of being burned alive. A choked gasp escaped my lips as cold sweat drenched my shirt.
Mia snatched her hand back, her voice breaking into a theatrical sob. Oh, Ava, I'm so sorry! I'm so clumsy. Are you okay?
Her performance was flawless. The picture of innocent distress, painting me as the volatile one, the source of the chaos. The sight of her duplicitous face made my stomach heave with revulsion.
I couldn't take it anymore. I snatched the empty mug from her hand, smashed it on the floor, and slapped her hard across the face.
Cut the crap, Mia. I'm done with your pathetic act!
Carter's expression hardened, his features twisting into a mask of undisguised disgust, as if he were looking at something truly unhinged.
He barked an order to the guards at the door. Lieutenant Reed is mentally unstable. She assaulted a fellow officer and is disrupting military order. Take her to the brig. Immediately.
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the silent room, his voice radiating absolute authority. No one is to visit her without my direct command. Anyone who disobeys will be court-martialed.
The guards seized me, their grip so tight I thought my bones would splinter. As they dragged me away, I looked back at Carter. His posture was ramrod straight, his attention already elsewhere. He didn't grant me a single glance.
Only Mia, standing beside him, had a triumphant little smile hiding in the corners of her eyes.
The brig was dark and damp, the air thick with the stench of mildew and old blood that made me cough. A guard shoved me violently, and I crumpled to the floor. An explosion of pain shot through my unhealed legs, nearly making me pass out.
I don't know how long I lay there before the cell door creaked open. It was Marcus.
He squatted down, his eyes sharp, his tone hostile. Alright, Ava. Spit it out. Tell me what you're really plotting, and maybe I'll consider letting you live.
I tried to speak, but my throat was painfully dry. A high fever was clouding my mind, and all I could manage was a weak, broken sound.
He asked again and again, his patience fraying into anger, then hardening into cruelty.
The Lieutenant is uncooperative and refuses to cooperate with this investigation, he finally declared to the guards outside. Her confinement is extended indefinitely.
Through the small window in the door, my vision blurred, I saw Carter's complex expression. Mia was beside him, her fingers toying with the sleeve of his uniform.
Carter, she murmured, she's like this and still won't give in. Ryker must have offered her something incredible.
Carter said nothing, but his thumb was unconsciously rubbing a button on his greatcoat.
I knew that gesture. It was what he did outside the asylum in our first life. It was what he did on the docks in our second life, debating whether to save me. It was the tell for his internal war.
But now, his patience was gone. His voice, when he finally spoke, was cold and resolute.
Shes always been good at playing the victim, at faking madness.
Let's see just how long her 'unbreakable will' lasts.
The next day, the door was kicked open with a deafening bang.
Mia strode in, flanked by several guards.
Ava, she cooed, I was worried you weren't comfortable. I came to help you get settled in.
Her eyes fell to my shoulders. She reached out, her fingers tracing the silver bars of my Lieutenant's insignia. Before I could react, she ripped it from my uniform, the metal edge slicing my cheek and drawing a bead of blood.
She held the insignia between her thumb and forefinger, her tone dripping with contempt. I pull all-nighters studying tactics, I drill until my hands bleed, and I can't even get a promotion. But you you just had to sleep with Carter to get everything you wanted. If I'd known selling my body was that effective, I wouldn't have wasted all that effort.
The guards stood by, heads bowed, silent.
I stared at the insignia, my fingernails digging into my palms. I earned that. I earned it on a battlefield with a bullet in my shoulder, pushing through enemy fire to complete a recon mission. In her hand, she held it like a piece of trash.
I opened my mouth to retort, but a sharp pain in my throat choked the words back.
Mia's gaze shifted to my neck, her fingers hooking the thin chain I wore. It was a necklace Carter had made for me years ago, a polished bullet casing from one of his first missions on the border. Engraved on it was the date we met. It was the only piece of our past I hadn't thrown away.
She yanked it. The chain snapped, the casing falling into her palm.
This worthless piece of junk isn't doing you any good. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it out the small, barred window.
I watched it disappear, a hollow ache spreading through my chest.
Mia turned to leave. Watch her, she commanded the guards.
The door hadn't even fully closed when I heard the voices outside. Zoe's was the loudest.
That bitch Ava has been one of Ryker's spies for years! If Carter hadn't found out when he did, she would have destroyed this entire battalion!
The lie spread like a virus.
Every time the guards escorted me to the water pump, I heard the whispers. Soldiers I had trained with now turned their faces away or deliberately slammed into me, dousing me with foul water. The food changed. The porridge came crawling with maggots, the greens laced with grit. I stopped eating.
On the fifth day, I was so weak I could barely lift my hand as I leaned against the wall.
That evening, Mia returned with Carter's personal medic.
You really are something else, Ava, she said, almost admiringly. Even now, Carter sends a doctor to keep you alive.
I had no energy to argue. I let the needle slide into my vein. My eyes drifted to a photograph in her hand, and my entire body went rigid.
It was the only picture I had of my parents. I kept it hidden at the very bottom of my trunk. Only I knew it was there.
You want it back, Ava?
In the photo, my parents' smiles were so warm, so loving.
I struggled to my feet, my fingertips brushing against the photograph before a guard slammed me back to the ground.
Mia laughed, a sound of smug charity. Just sign a confession, swear you'll never set foot in a military compound again, and I'll give it back to you.
My eyes were bloodshot. The only thing I'm guilty of, I rasped, is not killing you myself.
Her smile vanished. She casually dropped the photograph into an open drainage grate. The current was strong; it was gone in an instant.
The world went black for a moment, and I nearly collapsed.
But I didn't give up. I timed the changing of the guards. I hid a small, desperate note in my sleeve and slipped it to a passing communications officer on my way back from the pump.
It wasn't long before he was detained. The note was delivered directly to Carter.
He entered my cell, looking down at me from his great height. He squatted, seizing my chin, his grip so tight a pained grunt escaped me.
His voice was dangerously low. Tell me everything about your deal with Ryker. Be honest, and I'll let you out of here. We can forget any of this ever happened.
I closed my eyes, refusing to waste another breath on him.
Seeing my defiance, he leaned closer, his voice a casual, devastating blow.
You're pathetic, you know that? To think you actually believed their car crash was an accident. You ran for help to the very man who killed your parents.
He continued, his words twisting the knife. Your mourning period wasn't even over before General Morgan rushed to adopt you. Didn't you ever find that suspicious?
My eyes flew open. I stared at him, unable to process it. The image of my parents' gravestones blurred with the memory of my adoptive father's welcoming smile. It was a dull blade, churning my insides.
Carter seemed pleased with my reaction. He stood, straightened his uniform, and walked out without another word.
I collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down my face.
My entire life had been a lie. The sisterhood, the love, the loyaltyall of it fake. Even the truth of how my parents died.
I stared up at the dark, blurry ceiling, and for the first time, I felt a chilling certainty.
This life, this third and final chance, was a trap I was never meant to escape.
Three more days passed. Carters patience was gone.
Start the interrogation, he ordered, his voice devoid of any warmth as he leaned back in a chair just outside my cell. Don't stop until she tells the truth.
Two guards hauled me to my feet and strapped me to a restraint frame. The first lash of the whip landed directly on the old scars on my back. The pain was a searing, tearing agony. Blood instantly soaked through my shirt. I bit down on my lip, refusing to scream.
Suddenly, Mia's voice drifted in from the hallway, laced with practiced distress. Carter, stop! Please, don't hurt her anymore! She's not strong enough for this. You'll kill her
I tried to laugh, but no sound came out. It was just like the last time. She had begged them to stop the electrocution then, too, only to turn around and tell the doctor to increase the voltage.
The next thing I knew, a guard was approaching with a syringe. I tried to fight, but he pinned my arm down.
The drug was fast-acting. Every wound on my body felt like it was being devoured by a million fire ants. My consciousness began to fray. Fragments of the past flashed before my eyes. Carter, standing outside the asylum, his expression cold and distant. Then, the crushing weight of seawater filling my lungs, the suffocating embrace of the deep. And him, on the docks, holding Mias hand, waiting for me to die.
I don't know how much time passed. Carter entered the interrogation room, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He frowned, a flicker of panic in his eyes that was quickly masked by irritation. You brought this on yourself.
I was about to black out. Just as my vision faded, a bucket of ice-cold water shocked me back, my body wracked with shivers.
Carter stood over me, holding a stack of papers.
Confess, he said, and I'll consider telling you the whole truth about your parents' deaths.
I lifted my head, my heart pounding. He was so confident, so sure he was still dealing with the old Ava. But I already knew. I had pieced it together from details hed let slip, from the old grievances Id uncovered myself. My plan to defect to Ryker wasn't an impulse. It was a calculated strategy to expose them all. My parents' murder, the General's hypocrisy, and the truth Carter so deliberately concealed.
I steadied my breathing, my voice clear and even. It was just a mission.
The warmth in his eyes vanished. He pressed the glowing tip of his cigarette into my arm.
He spat two words at the guards. Keep going.
I don't remember the rest of the torture. There was only pain.
Late that night, the brig was terrifyingly silent. Curled in a corner, I thought I saw a familiar shadow in the darkness.
Carter knelt beside me. His movements were cautious, almost gentle, as he applied ointment to my burns and wounds. When he finished, he left without a word, as if that moment of tenderness was nothing more than a hallucination born from agony.
He was barely gone when Zoe pushed the door open. She carried an oil lamp, and her voice was a sickly sweet poison.
You just had to learn the hard way, didn't you? You should never have tried to compete with my sister. Her smile was chilling. Now, once you're dead, no one will be left to get between her and Carter. And that Lieutenant's commission you were so proud of? It'll be hers, as it always should have been.
My body went rigid. I forced my eyes open. In the flickering lamplight, the triumphant curve of her lips was identical to Mia's.
A memory flashed in my mind: my parents' funeral. A strange girl standing next to Mia, wearing a bracelet identical to the one Zoe always wore.
It was never just one of them. It had been both of them, from the very beginning. A perfectly constructed trap. And I, like a fool, had fallen for it, time and time again, never even realizing who my real enemies were.
The next morning, guards hauled me to Carter's office. The wounds from the night before were still weeping, every movement a fresh wave of agony.
Carter glanced at the bloodstains on my uniform. A flicker of somethingguilt, maybecrossed his face, so fast I thought I imagined it. His expression quickly settled back into a neutral mask. He tossed a document onto the desk in front of me.
Sign this. You're being reassigned to inventory management in the logistics department. Try to stay out of trouble and stop embarrassing yourself.
I used the desk to pull myself to my feet. Meeting his gaze, I couldn't help but find the situation darkly amusing.
Why the sudden transfer, Commander? Are you afraid I might uncover some of your dirty little secrets if I stay?
Before he could answer, his adjutant took a step forward, ready to reprimand me for my insolence, but Carter stopped him with a single look.
Mia, ever-present, tightened her arm around his. Ava, he's doing this for your own good, she said softly. It's a desk job. You'll be safe there, away from the fighting.
My eyes ignored her, focusing instead on the document. The document Zoe had swapped. It wasn't a transfer to logistics.
It was an application for immediate frontline deployment.
My calculated gamble had paid off. I had provoked her into overplaying her hand.
Without another moment's hesitation, I took the pen and signed my name. The scratch of the nib on paper felt like a blade scoring across my already shattered heart.
Carter glanced at the signature, and his tense shoulders seemed to relax. He stepped toward me, raising his hand as if to wipe a smudge of blood from my cheek.
I flinched away instinctively. His hand froze in mid-air, and his eyes darkened.
You're finally learning your place, Ava, he said, his tone unreadable. He retracted his hand.
He personally escorted me back to my quarters. Before he left, he turned. Get some rest. Heal. And stop causing trouble.
The moment his footsteps faded down the hall, I slid down the door, my back pressed against the wood. My heart felt like a gaping cavern, a cold wind howling through it. I couldn't cry. I just sat there, numbly wiping at the dried blood on my face.
After a long while, I reached under my cot and pulled out the small dagger I had hidden there.
I knew Mia wouldn't give me time to breathe.
Sure enough, in the dead of night, my door was kicked off its hinges. Several guards dragged me from my bed and shoved me into the back of a vehicle. The movement tore my wounds open, and the world swam in a haze of black-edged pain.
I was dumped, unceremoniously, at the most dangerous sector on the front: Outpost Niner.
It was the closest position to Ryker's main stronghold. The air constantly hummed with the whistle of incoming artillery. I huddled behind a crumbling barricade.
In the next instant, a masked man was on me, a knife blade pressed cold against my throat.
So Mia couldn't even wait a single night. She'd already paid an assassin to kill me on Ryker's doorstep, a perfect way to frame her rival.
My chest heaved with a mixture of terror and pain, but I forced myself to remain calm. As he leaned in to whisper a threat, I moved.
My hand closed around the dagger hidden in my boot. I used the very same combat techniques Carter had taught me to defend myself from the danger he had sent me into.
With every last ounce of my strength, I drove the blade deep into a vital point. Warm blood splattered across my face, the smell thick and metallic.
Fighting back nausea, I crawled to a battered, barely-functional telegraph machine and tapped out a short, coded message:
Outpost Niner overrun. Lieutenant Reed, KIA.
Then, I transmitted the message directly to Carter's command frequency.
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