"He'll be safe," Cory said beside her, voice rough from too little sleep.
"Yeah." At a nod from the woman, she hit the button to raise the hangar door, shutting it immediately after the vehicle backed out. "One problem down, fifty to go."
They'd been up past 2200 reviewing Zara's research on the spa, studying approaches, timing everything to the minute. Now, standing in the morning light with an illegal tracker weighing heavy in her pocket, the whole plan felt insane.
"We don't have to do this," Cory said, reading her hesitation.
She almost laughed. "Yes, we do. Someone I trust is selling us out. Martha, Bill, Danny..." The names of her Mountain Angel family stuck in her throat. "I need to know who."
"Then we go." He checked his weapon. "But we do it smart."
She reached for the small tactical case on the counter. "Here. Standard Knight Tactical comms." She handed him a nearly invisible earbud. "Secure channel, encrypted. Tap once to activate, twice to mute."
Cory examined the tiny device. "Range?"
"Farther than we’ll need.”
Earbud halfway to his sculpted jaw, he pulled a face. “Are you saying it’s classified?”
“Worse.” She grinned. “Zara-fied. She’d kill me if I gave away her secrets.”
She fitted her own, the familiar weight barely noticeable after years of use. "Channel's already set. Just you and me."
He inserted the earbud with surprising ease. Most people fumbled with the placement first time.
"Testing," she said softly, not moving her lips.
His eyes widened slightly at the crystal-clear sound. "Copy. That's impressive."
"Wait until you hear the background noise cancellation." She grabbed her gear. "Ready?"
The drive to the spa took forty minutes through Sunday morning traffic. They ran through contingencies via comms, voices clear despite the road noise.
"There." Cory indicated the discreet entrance to Serenity Springs Med Spa.
The building looked more like a private estate than a medical facility—stone and timber construction nestled among pines, a valet stand but no visible cameras. The parking area held a handful of luxury vehicles.
"SBN's Mercedes," Izzy confirmed through the comm, spotting the white S-Class in a corner spot. "She's inside."
Cory positioned their vehicle with good sightlines but partially concealed by landscaping. "How long do you need?"
"Ninety seconds. Two minutes max." She pulled on thin gloves, the tracker feeling like it weighed fifty pounds in her pocket. "Keep the channel open."
"Copy. I've got overwatch."
She slipped out, his breathing a steady rhythm in her ear as she moved with casual purpose. Just another spa client heading to her car. Nothing suspicious about checking something in the parking lot.
"Clear so far," Cory murmured. "No movement from the building."
The Mercedes sat pristine in the hard morning sun. Izzy dropped to one knee beside the driver's door, ostensibly adjusting her boot while scanning for the best placement.
"Checking rear bumper mount," she subvocalized.
"Roger. Still clear."
She moved to the back of the vehicle, already dropping to slide underneath when Cory's voice sharpened in her ear.
"Contact. Someone's coming out. North side entrance."
