"Maybe. Or maybe she's got better instincts than we're giving her credit for." I zip the duffel closed. Canvas rasps against metal teeth. "Either way, she's got Emma's evidence. That makes her valuable. She's worth protecting."
"Worth dying for?"
The question lands heavy between us. Rhys isn't asking if I'll do my job. He's asking if I'm willing to take a bullet for someone I met hours ago.
The air smells like old coffee. Fluorescent light flickers in the hallway outside. It needs replacing. The station is settling into night mode, quiet except for dispatch radio crackling in the distance.
"If it comes to that, yeah."
Rhys studies me for a long moment. "You're a good deputy, Marc. A good man. But sometimes you carry things you don't have to carry."
"Is this what Emma would want? Her evidence getting someone killed because we didn't protect them?"
His jaw tightens. "No. Emma would want that nurse alive and testifying. She'd want The Marshal exposed and the network destroyed." He pauses. "She'd also want you to come back in one piece."
"I'll do my best."
"Your best is good." Rhys straightens. "Just remember that cabin works both ways. You're defending ground, not taking territory. Someone comes at you, you hold position and call for backup. Don't be a hero."
"I never planned to be." I shoulder the duffel. "Heroes get people killed. I'm just here to do the job."
Back in the main room, Cara's hunched over her laptop, running code I don't understand. Harlow's on the phone, talking to someone about surveillance protocols. Sela stands near the window, looking out at the street.
When I approach, she turns. "Ready?"
"Almost. I need to get you different clothes. Those scrubs make you too recognizable."
"I don't exactly have options."
"Harlow?" I call across the room.
She covers her phone. "Yeah?"
"Sela needs clothes. Practical stuff—jeans, boots, layers."
Harlow nods, says something into the phone, then hangs up. "I've got extra gear handy. We're about the same size. I'll grab a bag."
She disappears through a side door and returns minutes later with a duffel that she hands to Sela. "The bathroom's down the hall. Change quick. We don't know how much time we have before someone starts looking for you."
Sela takes the bag without argument. She heads for the bathroom.
Finn appears beside me. "The truck's loaded. I'll ride up with you and make sure you're squared away. Keep checking the rearview mirror, we need to make sure no one followed us."
"I appreciate it."
"After that, you're on your own until I get back from checking the cabin."
"Understood," I say.
Sela returns wearing jeans, hiking boots, and a thermal shirt under a fleece jacket. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail. She looks different now. Less like a hospital employee, more likesomeone who could disappear into Alaska wilderness without drawing attention.
"Better," I say.
She tugs the jacket sleeves down. "It feels strange. I've been in scrubs since my shift started. I forgot what real clothes feel like."
"You'll adjust." I hand her the body armor I pulled from the locker. "Put this on."
Her eyes fix on the vest. "You're serious."
