Badass in Disguise Chapter 247

Ethan's eyes narrowed as he caught a flash of light reflecting off something in the distance. His instincts kicked in immediately—that telltale glint could only be one thing: a rifle scope.

The muffled pop of a silenced rifle echoed through the air. The bullet shattered the windshield, punched through the hood of the sweatshirt covering the dummy head he'd placed in the passenger seat, and continued through the rear window in a spray of glass.

Thank God for paranoia.

His precautionary measure—a hastily constructed mannequin using bunched clothing and a soccer ball from a village market—had just saved Jade's life. The sniper had targeted exactly where her head would have been if he hadn't swapped her to the back seat an hour earlier.

Ethan dove into the back, scooping Jade's limp form into his arms. Her fever-hot skin burned against his chest as he kicked open the door and rolled out, using the car's body as cover.

"Come on, come on," he whispered, cradling her against him.

The car offered minimal protection in the open terrain. Ethan scanned the area—nothing but flat, dusty ground stretching in all directions, with the small village they'd just passed through barely visible in the distance. The sniper had chosen the perfect ambush spot.

Another bullet pinged off the car's frame, inches from Ethan's head. He needed to move, but where?

The explosion rocked the ground beneath him as he fired three precise shots into the gas tank. The car erupted in flames, creating a momentary screen of smoke and chaos. Ethan seized the opportunity, clutching Jade tightly against his chest as he sprinted toward a small convenience store about fifty yards away—the only structure within reach.

---

Inside the dingy store, Ethan laid Jade behind the counter and checked the perimeter. The shopkeeper and two customers had already fled through the back door. Within minutes, black-clad figures surrounded the building—Shadow operatives closing in on their target. Bullets shattered the windows and splintered the wooden shelves. Ethan, armed with only his handgun and dwindling ammunition, knew they were trapped.

"Come on, Jade," he whispered, checking her pulse. "We need a miracle right about now."

As if in answer, the distant rumble of engines cut through the gunfire.

Night's tactical team arrived minutes later, their black SUVs kicking up dust clouds as they skidded to a halt. The burning car illuminated the darkening sky, casting eerie shadows across the desert landscape.

"Spread out! Find them!" Night barked into his comms. His face was a mask of controlled fury as he surveyed the scene.

The convenience store had become a battlefield. Shadow operatives converged on the small building, their weapons trained on every exit. Night's team formed a perimeter, engaging the operatives with precision fire.

Through the chaos, Night caught a glimpse of Ethan carrying Jade toward a vehicle behind the store. Their eyes met briefly across the firefight. Night hesitated, wanting to follow, to confirm that Jade was truly alive. But the mission came first. He turned back to the fight, providing cover fire as Ethan disappeared with Jade.

---

The world came into focus slowly, like an old television warming up. Jade blinked against the thin light filtering through a cracked window. Her body felt heavy, disconnected, as if she were floating in water.

The ceiling above her was stained with water damage, the plaster crumbling in corners. She was lying on a narrow cot with a thin mattress that smelled of mildew and sweat. The air was thick with humidity and the distinct scent of poverty—a mix of cooking oil, unwashed bodies, and desperation.

"Hey," came a soft voice beside her.

Jade turned her head slightly, wincing at the pain that shot through her neck and shoulder. Ethan sat on a wooden stool beside the bed, his face unshaven, dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Where are we?" Her voice came out as a rasp.

"Still in Ethiopia. A slum on the outskirts of Addis Ababa." Ethan reached for a water bottle, helping her lift her head to drink. "We couldn't risk moving you any further. Your condition is not good."

A gentle knock at the door made Ethan rise. A small, dirt-smudged face peered through the crack—a boy no older than thirteen, holding a small cloth bag.

Ethan exchanged a few words in Amharic, handed the boy some crumpled bills, and took the bag. The door closed quietly.

"Who's that?" Jade asked as Ethan returned to her side.

"Tolosa. Local kid. Orphan. This was his grandfather's place before he died. I bought it from him—temporary arrangement." Ethan opened the bag, revealing a handful of corn. "He brings us food, keeps watch."

Ethan moved to a small hotplate in the corner and began preparing a simple porridge.

"You should rest more," he said, stirring the pot. "Your body needs time."

After eating the bland porridge and taking medication, Jade drifted back to sleep.

---

Days passed. Jade's shoulder began to heal, the angry red infection gradually receding. Her strength returned in small increments, though she remained weak.

One evening, Ethan brought a basin of warm water to the bedside. "I thought you might want your hair washed."

Jade glanced at his bandaged hand. "With that?"

"I can manage with one hand," he said with a small smile. "It'll just take longer."

He carefully lifted her, repositioning her so her head hung over the edge of the bed.

As he worked the water through her hair, Jade looked up at his concentrated face.

"Have you contacted Chris?" she asked. "Did he blow up the castle?"

"Lost my phone. And yes, the castle's gone."

"Good."

Ethan studied her face, clearly wanting to ask about what had happened at the desert fortress, but he held back. "What would you like for dinner?"

"Whatever we have. Try not to go out."

"I know."

---

That night, as Jade lay awake listening to the sounds of the slum, she heard Tolosa's voice at the door.

"How is your wife?" the boy asked in Amharic.

"Much better," Ethan replied in the same language.

"Is she having a baby? We have a doctor here. I can find him if your wife needs help. The woman next door almost died giving birth because she had no money for a doctor."

"No, that won't be necessary."

When Ethan closed the door, Jade asked, "What did he say?"

"He asked if we needed a doctor."

"And?"

"That's about it."

Jade raised an eyebrow. "About it?"

"You understand Amharic, don't you?"

In perfect Amharic, Jade replied, "Difficult words like 'wife' and 'baby' are challenging for me."

Ethan looked sheepish for a moment before his expression settled into calm confidence. "I could teach you. I know it all."

"Mr. Haxton is so talented," Jade teased.

---

As night fell, the small room grew colder. After helping Jade with a simple sponge bath, Ethan carefully tucked the thin blanket around her.

"Come to bed," Jade said, her voice stronger than it had been in days.

Ethan hesitated. He'd spent the past several nights sitting in a chair, dozing at her bedside, barely sleeping at all.

"The bed's too small," he said.

"I'm cold by myself."

Ethan reached under the blanket, feeling her hand. It was like ice, her fingers stiff and cold. Without a word, he pulled back the covers, shrugged off his coat—still warm from his body—and laid it over her before replacing the blanket.

He switched off the single bulb hanging from the ceiling and carefully lowered himself onto the narrow cot. The bed was indeed tiny, forcing him to lie on his side, facing her.

"In that castle... there was only QC and Selene. I outranked them both. I had contingencies in place. I should have been able to get out unharmed."

"What went wrong?" Ethan asked softly.

Jade stared into the darkness above them. QC's words echoed in her mind: "Dusk died for Shadow." She wanted to tell Ethan everything, but didn't know where to begin.

As her silence stretched on, Ethan felt the shift in her emotions. He rested his forehead against her head. "It's late. Don't think about it now. Tell me when you're stronger."