I ran my hands over the main support struts, mentally calculating explosive placement. Four charges, one at each corner of the base, set to collapse the tower in on itself. Plus two more in the equipment building to fry the electronics. Clean, contained, effective.
“How’s it look?” Flynn called softly.
“Standard construction, non-standard gear.” I unzipped my pack, pulling out the blocks of C-4 and detonators. “We can bring it down without much collateral.”
The familiar routine centered me: check the clay-like explosive for consistency, press the detonators into place, secure the timers. This was the work I knew, the work I could do without thinking. Unlike what waited back at the rally point. Unlike what faced us at the mining facility. This was straightforward. No emotions involved.
“Trent.” Rafe’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Building’s ready for entry.”
I nodded, tucking the explosives back into my pack for now. We’d place them after securing the interior. First, we needed whatever intel the equipment building might hold.
That’s when my earpiece crackled, the sound different from our team channel. A local frequency. Dutch’s voice came through, tight with pain and something I’d never heard from him before. Fear.
“Contact! Evac team is under attack! Parker and six hostiles, all armed! Evie is pinned down!”
The night around me seemed to freeze, sound dropping away except for Dutch’s labored breathing and the unmistakable pop of gunfire in the background.
“Evac, report,” I demanded, already on my feet.
“Bastards found us at Howie Hardy’s place. Took a round. Evie’s holding them off, but we’re outnumbered.”
Another burst of gunfire, then Dutch’s grunt of pain. Static hissed through the line.
“Dutch? Dutch!”
Nothing.
My vision tunneled, blood pounding in my ears. Evelyn. Under fire. Possibly wounded. Every cell in my body screamed to move, to run, to get to her. The mission, the tower, the plan—all of it faded against that single driving need.
I was already three steps toward our vehicle when Rafe’s hand clamped on my shoulder, spinning me around. His eyes were hard, knowing.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said, fingers digging into my collarbone.
“Let go of me.” The words scraped my throat.
“Stick to the plan, Bricks.” Rafe didn’t back down. “Ethan and Gage are closer—they’ll get to her. We finish this.”
“She could be dying right now.” I shoved against his grip.
“And if we don’t take down this tower, everyone in that town stays puppets forever,” Rafe countered. “Including the ones shooting at her.”
Flynn stepped between us, his usual manner replaced by tactical focus. “Ethan’s already on comms. He’s two minutes from Evelyn. We’re twenty minutes out at best. Do the math, Bricks.”
The logic cut through the red haze of panic. They were right. Ethan’s team would reach Evelyn before we could. And abandoning the tower mission would leave the control signal active. Tactically, strategically, the right call was clear.
But knowing that didn’t make it any easier to turn back toward the equipment building rather than run to her.
“If she dies while we’re standing here,” I said, the words tasting like ash, “I’ll never forgive any of us.”
Rafe’s hand shifted from restraint to support. “Then let’s make this quick. In and out, ten minutes. Then we’ll go to her.”
I took one deep breath, then another, forcing the panic down, locking it away behind years of training and discipline.
Mission first.
It had to be mission first.
But as I moved toward the building, my heart hammered against my ribs with every step I wasn’t taking toward Evelyn.
