His response is immediate, like it always is. He and Grizz join me within minutes. They take one look at my face and know what’s happening.
“They’re moving,” Grizz says.
I nod. “Hours. Not days.”
Atlas is already shifting intocommand. “Wake Kira.”
She’s out in the hallway upstairs, wrapped in one of Atlas’s sweatshirts, her hair loose, eyes alert despite the early hour. She doesn’t ask why I’m looking for her. She waits.
“They’re mobilizing now,” I tell her. “Not to search, but to strike. We don’t have long.”
Her hand goes to her belly. “Is it happening the way you anticipated?”
I nod. “Feds are coming, based on your agreement to testify.”
She’s quiet for a moment, but not frozen with fear. Finally, she nods. “Okay. As we planned.”
Atlas and Grizz come up then, circling in.
“We’ll walk you through the next steps,” Atlas says calmly. “Our focus is on keeping you safe.”
“Tell me what you need me to do.”
As Grizz takes her hand and leads her downstairs, Atlas says, “It’s time for the safe room. Once you’re in, you need to stay there. If you hear gunfire, you stay. If things go silent, you stay.”
“Come out only when one of us opens the door and says your name,” I add.
“Running is what they're going to expect,” Atlas says. “Staying put will keep you alive.”
She looks around at each of us, meeting our eyes in turn. “I won’t move.”
During meetings, we briefed her on radio usage. I hand her one now. “Channel three only. If comms go dark,assume we’re still working at the problem. Don’t come out.”
Downstairs, Atlas opens a secured locker in the armory, removes a pistol, already cleared, and hands it to me. Meeting Kira's eyes, he says, “You’re not expected to be brave. Only alive.”
"You don’t go looking for anything," Grizz adds.
At the reinforced room we built back when storms were our biggest threat, Atlas motions to the interior shelf. “Keep the pistol there once you’re inside.”
She slides the radio into her pocket, and I hold the gun out to her, grip first. “Safety on. Finger indexed. Off the trigger unless you intend to fire."
She takes it and walks into the room, composed and unflinching, and something settles in me that has nothing to do with tactics.
“You’re coming back for me,” she says.
It isn’t a question.
Atlas nods. “Yes.”
“Every time,” Grizz says.
I don’t say anything because I don’t need to. She already knows.
Atlas squeezes her shoulder once, then steps back. Grizz lingers a fraction longer before turning away. He’s already mapping explosives and terrain in his mind.
When Atlas seals the door and the lock engages, the compound immediately feels smaller and darker.
“Allright.” He says, turning to us. “Let’s get ready.”
