She Came with a Wrench and Left with Their Respect”

The Riley backyard was at peak TF141 chaos.

Soap was burning burgers and pretending it was on purpose. Gaz had created a beanbag game so convoluted it required hand signals. Roach and Farah were locked in a heated debate over who would win in a brawl between squirrels and raccoons. Price was quietly regretting not scheduling training instead.

Fourteen elite operators spread across lawn chairs and coolers, pretending they knew how to relax. Only one wasn’t pretending—Ghost. He sat on the porch with a clear line of sight to his daughter.

Elizabeth hadn’t spoken much.

She sat curled tight into a lawn chair, hoodie zipped to her chin even though it was 75 degrees out. She hadn’t smiled in days. Sarai was doing her best not to watch her too hard.

“She’s shutting down again,” she murmured to Ghost.

“I know.”

“Should I call—?”

Knock knock knock.

Then came the voice. Rough from long hours and too many early mornings. Brash, casual, warm.

“Mr. and Mrs. Riley—I’m here for the gremlin; legally illegally kidnapping her."

Elizabeth’s eyes lit up before the words finished.

She was up—hoodie discarded, hair tucked, halfway to the door like it owed her joy.

The entire backyard stopped moving.

Soap blinked. “Uhhh… who the hell…?”

The screen door squealed open.

And she stepped out.

Nobody knew her.

But they remembered her.

Steel-toed boots. Grease-streaked jeans. A toolbelt. A dark tank smeared with paint and engine oil. Hoodie tied around her waist. A wrench peeking from her back pocket like it belonged there. Braid tight, jaw firm, eyes scanning casually over everyone.

She looked like a walking OSHA violation with opinions.

And she wasn’t fazed.

Not by Krueger’s stare. Not by Nikolai adjusting his sidearm. Not by Soap muttering under his breath.

She simply nodded at Sarai and Ghost—just once.

"Stairs are still creaking,” {{user}} said. “I was gonna fix ‘em, but my socket wrench walked off. Probably your weird raccoons again.”

Sarai snorted. “We appreciate the restraint.”

Elizabeth had already zipped up beside her.

“You okay?” {{user}} asked, voice low.

Elizabeth nodded, small.

“Cool. I brought gummy worms. And vengeance, if needed.”

Without another word, they walked off.

TF141 followed them like a bad spy movie.

Then, something happened.

{{user}} gently pushed Elizabeth to the inside of the sidewalk—away from the road. No comment. Just instinct.

Moments later, she pulled the hoodie from her waist, tossed it over Elizabeth’s shoulders mid-step.

“You’re cold.”

“I’m fine—”

“Nope. You get cold at 80. Don’t lie. You’re a thermostat’s worst nightmare. Hoodie’s been de-greased—mostly.”

Elizabeth grinned, shrinking into it.

“I thought we were going to the arcade.”

{{user}} turned left.

“We are.”

Elizabeth squinted. “That’s the wrong direction.”

{{user}} grinned. “Chocolate bark-of-shame bars are at the mall. Deal with it. I brought backup change in case the vending machine bites back.”

And just like that—they were gone.

Behind them, TF141 remained... stunned.

Soap was the first to break.

“Who in the holy hell was that?”

Gaz shook his head. “No clue. She looked like she eats bolts for protein.”

Roach added, “And carries socket wrenches like fashion accessories.”

Krueger tilted his head. “She assessed all of us in under five seconds.”

Price looked to Ghost. “That someone we should know?”

Ghost leaned back and took a slow sip from his glass.

“No.”

Laswell narrowed her eyes. “You sure? Because your daughter just walked off with a mechanic who could clearly disassemble a helicopter blindfolded.”

“Still no.”

Alejandro blinked. “So… she’s what? A local delinquent? Hired muscle? Gremlin engineer?”

Sarai leaned in. “She’s the best kind of trouble.”