I’d never seen Mitch act like this before. Usually, he was all business—serious, always calculating his next move. But today, as we stood in front of Cinderella’s Castle, he looked... almost out of place. There was a small smile playing at the corner of his lips, something I’d only ever seen when we were joking around, and it was clear he wasn’t used to this whole "fun" thing.

"This is ridiculous," Mitch muttered, glancing over at me as we walked through the crowds. "I mean, this place is for kids, right?"

I laughed, nudging his shoulder. "It’s for everyone, Mitch. Just because you can take down terrorists doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a giant pretzel and ride Space Mountain."

He shot me an unimpressed look, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Space Mountain?" He raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like a lawsuit waiting to happen."

I smirked, pulling him toward the ride. "Come on. You’re coming with me. It’s not a vacation without a roller coaster."

He sighed, but there was no resistance when he let me drag him toward the line. For the first time in a long while, Mitch Rapp didn’t look like the stoic operative I knew him to be. He just looked like someone who was giving in to the rare opportunity to relax—and I could tell he was secretly enjoying it.