Walker nodded approvingly. “I like it. What about building schematics? Exit strategies?”
Elena pulled out her laptop, which she’d retrieved from her bag before coming downstairs. “I’ve got architectural plans, but they’re three years old. We’ll need current intel on security modifications.”
“I can handle that,” Terrel said. “Give me until this afternoon, and I’ll have updated blueprints and security protocols.”
Reed leaned back in his chair, and Elena could see his tactical mind working through scenarios. “Weapons?”
“Small arms only,” Elena said. “Concealed carry for personal protection, but nothing that would compromise our cover if we’re searched.”
“What about extraction?” James asked. “If this goes sideways—and let’s be honest, these things usually do—how do we get out?”
Elena had been dreading this question because the honest answer was that extraction would be nearly impossible if theywere compromised. “The estate is isolated. Single access road, water on two sides. If Webb’s people realize what’s happening...”
“We fight our way out,” Reed said simply. “Just like old times.”
Elena looked around the table at the four Star brothers, seeing the calm acceptance in their faces. These men had spent their careers walking into situations where extraction wasn’t guaranteed, where success meant something bigger than their own survival.
“There’s one more thing,” Elena said quietly. “Once we’re inside, once we’ve identified Webb and confirmed he has the WATCHDOG access codes, the first plan is to take him alive. Go through proper authorities, put him away where he belongs.”
The brothers nodded.
Elena took a breath. “The second plan... is I kill him.”
All four men scoffed simultaneously.
“No, Elena,” Reed said.
She turned to him, her jaw set with determination. “Yes, Reed. If we don’t think we can take Webb to a place where he will receive justice, then I’ll kill him. He took my life—fair is fair.”
The statement hung in the air, heavy with implication.
“Elena…” Reed began.
“I’m serious. This man has been selling surveillance capabilities to enemies of the United States for three years. How many people have died because of intelligence he’s provided? How many journalists, activists, and dissidents have disappeared because Webb gave someone the tools to find them?”
Walker was quiet for a long moment. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. We’ll focus on plan A.”
“Agreed,” Elena said. “But we need to be prepared for both scenarios.”
Reed was quiet for a long moment, then nodded reluctantly. “Understood. Anything else we need to discuss?”
Elena shook her head, suddenly exhausted despite the morning’s exercise and prayer. The weight of what they were planning—the risks they were taking, the lives that hung in the balance—settled over her like a heavy blanket.
“All right then,” Reed said, standing and beginning to clear dishes. “We’ve got work to do.”
As Elena watched Reed and his brothers move around the kitchen with practiced efficiency, she found herself thinking about prayer again. She’d asked God to guide them, to help them be successful. Looking at these four capable men who were willing to risk everything to help her make things right, Elena couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—her prayers were already being answered.
CHAPTER 8
Reed stood in his kitchen, making dinner. His brothers wouldn’t be there tonight—Walker had gone back to his own place, and James and Terrel had driven into Seattle to pick up specialized equipment they’d need for Vancouver. The house felt unusually quiet without their constant chatter and good-natured ribbing.
He had asked Elena if she would like to eat dinner with him, and she’d said yes. He’d told her to give him an hour while he cooked. It had been an impulse, really—the desire to do something normal, something that felt like the old days when they’d shared countless meals together.
Now, as he sautéed mushrooms, onions, and red peppers, stirred the linguine sauce, and kept track of the noodles boiling on the back burner, he felt... satisfied. Maybe for the first time since he’d seen her in his office. Which was strange, because his mind was all confused about everything else.
Part of him wanted to jump back in with her completely, to pretend the last five years hadn’t happened and pick up where they’d left off. The other part warned that she had abandoned him five years ago. There could have been another way. Justlike she’d reached out to her mother through the newspaper, couldn’t she have figured something out to contact him?
The mist from the boiling water hit his face, and he pulled the vegetables off the heat, then stopped boiling the noodles. He took the pot to the sink and rinsed the pasta in cold water, his movements automatic while his thoughts churned.
