Tommy works his systems frantically. "I'm scanning for new signals. If it activates, I'll pick it up immediately."
The operations center goes silent. We watch the screens, watch the blue markers representing our team, watch for any indication that the dead man's switch has triggered.
Tommy's monitors light up with alerts. "Beacon is active. I'm reading the signal. It's broadcasting their exact position."
"Can you jam it?" Kane demands.
"Negative. It's using a frequency hopping protocol. I'd need physical access to disable it, and by the time you reach it, the damage is done."
Sarah moves to look over Tommy's shoulder, studying the data streaming across the screens. "How long before Committee assets respond?"
"Analyzing Committee communication patterns now." Tommy pulls up encrypted channels. "I'm picking up activity. Multiple teams acknowledging the beacon. They're converging on your position."
On the tactical display, new red markers begin appearing. More than I can count. Moving fast from multiple directions toward the blue markers representing our team.
"How many?" Kane asks.
"Multiple teams confirmed. They had assets staged throughout the region." The grim certainty in Tommy's tone makes my stomach clench. "They're going to be on top of you soon."
"Kane, abort," Sarah says immediately. "Get out of there."
"If we run straight back to base, we lead them right to you. To Rachel and Lucas." Kane's voice is steady despite the situation. "We're going dark. Drawing them away from your position. Once we shake them, we'll circle back through alternate routes."
"Kane—" Sarah starts.
"That's an order. Hold the facility. Protect the Donovans. We'll handle this."
I'm on my feet before I realize I'm moving. "Stryker, you're wounded."
Static crackles. Then Stryker's voice comes through, rough but steady. "Just a graze, Rachel. Nothing Willa can't patch up when we get back."
"You're lying." I can hear it in his voice, the carefully controlled pain underneath.
"I'm operational," he says, which isn't the same as being fine. "Stay safe. Keep Lucas close. I'll see you when this is done."
"Stryker—"
But the radio has already gone silent.
On Tommy's screen, the blue markers change direction. Instead of heading toward Echo Base, they move away, deliberately leading the converging red markers in the opposite direction. Drawing the Committee forces away from us. Away from Lucas. Away from any chance of discovering Echo Base's location.
Something twists in my chest as I watch those blue dots move farther from safety. They're choosing this. Choosing to run wounded through the wilderness with hostile teams closing in from every direction. Choosing to bleed and fight and maybe die out there in the dark rather than risk leading the Committee back to my son. Colton is out there somewhere in that Montana forest, hurt and hunted, and he's running away from the only help that could save him.
Tommy works his keyboards, tracking both our team and the Committee assets pursuing them. "They're splitting up. Kane's taking point, drawing the main pursuit. Dylan and Stryker are flanking, trying to divide the Committee's attention. Mercer's providing mobile overwatch."
"Dylan's hit too," Sarah says quietly, studying the movement patterns. "His pace is slower than it should be."
"How bad?" I ask.
"Can't tell from here. But he's mobile, which means it's not immediately life-threatening."
I sink back into my chair.
Time seems to slow to a crawl. Tommy provides updates as our team leads the Committee forces through the Montana wilderness. The red markers follow relentlessly.
"They're professional," Tommy mutters. "Not giving up."
Sarah paces behind his chair. "How long can they keep this up?"
