Knight checks us in while the others maintain a perimeter watch. When he returns, he has three room keys.
"Rooms 112, 114, and 116," he announces. "Adjoining, back corner of the property. Good sightlines, multiple exit routes."
Blade nods approvingly. "Who's where?"
"You and Viper take 112. Dice in 114. Beth and I will take 116."
This arrangement raises eyebrows. Viper's expression remains neutral, but Blade gives Knight a long, assessing look. Dice lets out a low chuckle but quickly silences it when Knight glares at him.
"I need to be in the same room to provide immediate protection," Knight explains, though no one has directly questioned him. "Any issues with that?"
"Your mission, your call," Blade says finally, taking his key.
We move our vehicles to the back of the motel and unload our bags quickly, minimizing our exposure. The rooms are basic but clean. Two beds, worn carpet, dated furnishings. Once inside, Knight immediately checks every corner, the bathroom, the closet, under the beds.
"Clear," he pronounces, drawing the curtains.
The others file in for a quick briefing. Blade produces a map of downtown Denver, spreading it on one of the beds. They discuss approaches to the courthouse, security rotations, potential threats. It's surreal watching these outlaws plot what amounts to a protective operation for a federal witness. They continue planning for another hour before Blade stands.
"We'll take first watch. Rotation every four hours. Viper, then me, then Dice. Knight, you stay with her."
Knight nods. "Check-ins every hour. Any sign of trouble, immediate alert."
After they leave, the room feels suddenly quiet. Knight secures the door, double-checking the lock and placing a chair under the handle—an old trick, but effective.
I sit on one of the beds, the reality of tomorrow looming before me. In less than twenty-four hours, I'll be facing the corrupt officials who want me dead, testifying to what I heard that day in the courtroom.
"You should rest," Knight says, noticing my expression.
"I don't think I can."
He sits beside me, not touching, but close enough that I can feel his warmth. "You'll get through this, Beth. You're stronger than you think."
"Am I? Because right now I feel like the scared girl who hid behind the stenographer's desk when she heard something she shouldn't."
"That scared girl still had the courage to report what she heard, knowing it would put her in danger. That takes strength."
His faith in me is both comforting and terrifying. "What if I freeze on the stand? What if I can't remember the details?"
"You will. And the recording will speak for itself."
I lean against him, drawing strength from his solid presence. "Thank you. For everything."
He puts his arm around me, pulling me closer. "Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day."
Eventually, I do lie down, though sleep seems impossible. Knight sits in the chair by the window, constantly vigilant, checking his phone periodically for updates from the others.
"You should sleep too," I tell him. "You can't protect me if you're exhausted."
He smiles slightly. "Ranger training. I can function on minimal sleep."
"Knight," I pat the space beside me on the bed. "Please. Just for a little while."
After a moment's hesitation, he moves to the bed, stretching out on top of the covers beside me. I turn toward him, studying his profile in the dim light filtering through the curtains.
"Are you scared?" I ask quietly.
"Not for myself," he answers honestly.
