They didn't speak for hours.
After escaping the camp, Zaid drove a rusted jeep through winding mountain roads while Karim lay in the back—hands bound, face bruised, a ghost of the brother Lina once knew.
The silence between Lina and Zaid was a wall made of knives.
The truth had landed like shrapnel in her chest: Zaid had once betrayed her. Maybe not to kill her—but to use her.
And the man she'd kissed was not clean.
When they stopped at a safehouse just inside the Algerian border, Lina got out first. She walked far into the desert, where the world was nothing but sand and stars.
She screamed until her throat gave out.
When she returned, Zaid was waiting on the rooftop.
His eyes met hers. "I didn't come into your life to hurt you, Lina."
"But you did."
"Yes. And I'll never forgive myself. But if I hadn't... Karim would've gotten to you first. I tried to buy us time. I didn't expect to fall in love with you."
She froze.
"You love me?"
"I did the second you looked at me like I was more than what I'd done."
Tears welled in her eyes, but her voice stayed steel. "Then you should've trusted me with the truth."
Zaid stepped closer. "I still do."
"And I don't know if I can."
That night, Karim spoke.
From the cot, his voice raw: "You're going to hand me over to the CIA."
Lina didn't flinch. "You made yourself a weapon. You don't get to cry about being disarmed."
"Do you think this ends with me?" he said, staring at her. "There are ten more networks like mine. Ones smarter. Ones colder. And Zaid? He was trained by one of them."
She turned to Zaid. "Is that true?"
He didn't deny it.
"Yes. Before Karim's cell, I was trained by a unit that doesn't exist on paper. I saw what covert power does. I left because it erased people. But I've been trying to undo that ever since."
Lina stood between them—her brother, a warlord. Her lover, a ghost soldier.
And her? She was the only one still bleeding truth.
They made contact with a CIA field operative by sunrise.
They would extract Karim within 24 hours.
But Lina knew something was off.
The agent who arrived at the rendezvous point—he didn't ask the right questions. He knew details she hadn't shared. His accent was wrong. His timing too perfect.
She stepped behind Zaid and whispered, "He's not with the CIA."
Zaid nodded once. "I know."
Gunfire exploded from the ridge.
Three men. Silencers. All aiming for Karim.
Zaid shoved Lina down and opened fire.
A bullet grazed Karim's shoulder—he screamed and crawled for cover.
Lina grabbed the pistol from Zaid's belt, took aim, and dropped one of the attackers with a clean shot to the chest.
The desert echoed with thunder. When it cleared—three men were dead.
But Zaid was on the ground.
Blood seeping from his side.
"Zaid!"
She dropped beside him, ripping his shirt open.
"I'm okay," he gasped. "It missed the lung. I think."
Lina pressed her hand to the wound. "Stay with me."
His eyes met hers, fevered and raw. "Do you trust me now?"
She didn't answer with words.
She kissed him.
And this time—it wasn't desperate.
It was real.