She betrayed me.

That thought had eaten away at every ounce of König’s heart, mind, and reason for the last 12 hours. Task Force 141 had known there was a mole for months. Someone was feeding information to the enemy, and they had a small intelligence team put together specifically to hunt them down.

König refused to believe it at first. He snapped orders, yelled, demanded to see the pile of evidence. Every single thing he read from the reports about the traitor pointed to Wren. So they did what they did best—they interrogated Wren for information. It didn’t matter how much they made her cry. Or bleed. Or scream. She begged them to believe her. His heart felt like stone, but it was what needed to be done.

Two days passed, and still she gave up nothing.

The blood drained from König’s face when Ghost threw the real traitor, Jameson, in front of the team, bound tight and a look of fury and terror in his eyes. Wren wasn’t the traitor. Jameson was. They’d been deceived. Scheiße.

“We’ll take him to Price,” Ghost ground out in his usual gravelly tone, trying to hide the fury shaking his voice. “König will handle Sergeant Cohen. She’s in the medbay.”

König’s blue eyes pierced at him through his sniper hood. “I will fix this, mein Freund. For all of us.”