Before either of us can say anything else, my laptop chimes.
A motion sensor alert.
I'm at the window in two steps, scanning the treeline. Nothing visible. Too dark, too much cover. Sela's already moving, grabbing the Glock, checking the magazine. Her training is kicking in.
The sensor alerts again. Closer this time.
A vehicle is approaching the cabin. No headlights. Moving tactical.
I pull my sidearm, move to the light switch, and kill the interior lights. The cabin goes dark except for the laptop screen's faint glow.
"Bedroom," I say, voice low. "Away from windows. If they breach, you hold position and don't fire unless you have a clear shot. Understand?"
"Understood." No hesitation. No argument. She moves.
The sensor pulses a third time.
They're closing in.
I close the laptop, plunging the cabin into complete darkness. My eyes adjust fast, trained response from years of night operations. I can make out shapes now. Furniture, doorways, windows.
Outside, nothing but forest and shadows.
But they're coming. Moving up that access road without headlights because they don't want to announce their approach. Because they're professionals who know how to breach a target.
I press my back against the wall beside the door, weapon ready, breathing controlled.
The motion sensor signals again.
They're closer now.
My phone's in my pocket. One call and Finn will move, but I need to hold until he gets here. Hold against however many contractors Haywood sent to recover the evidence and eliminate Sela Mitchell.
The math isn't good. But the position is defensible and I've held worse.
They're almost here now.
Engine noise reaches me, faint but distinct. A V8, moving slow. They're not rushing. Not panicking. They're advancing with tactical precision.
I key the radio on my belt. An encrypted frequency. Finn will hear it even if I can't talk.
"Contact imminent," I say quietly. "Multiple hostiles. Cabin location. Need backup."
Finn's response comes through instantly. "On my way. Hold position."
"Copy."
They're right outside now.
The engine cuts off. The doors open. I count two, maybe three. Quiet closures, practiced movements.
Then I hear footsteps. Multiple sets. Moving through trees instead of straight up the road.
They're flanking. Coming at the cabin from different angles to prevent escape routes.
It's smart.
Also predictable.
