Kane studies the tactical map I've projected on the main display, his expression unreadable. Dylan stands beside him, already geared up in full kit. Stryker and Mercer flank the table, weapons checked and ready. The four of them make up Echo Ridge's direct action team, and right now they're the only thing standing between Reeve and visual confirmation of this facility.
"Latest satellite pass shows Reeve's team here." I mark the position on the digital overlay. "They're miles northeast, moving through the valley corridor. His trajectory puts him on track to reach this ridgeline by dawn tomorrow."
"Visual range of the base?" Kane's question cuts straight to the problem.
"Affirmative. That ridge overlooks the entire valley. If he sets up long-range surveillance from there, he'll have eyes on our access points within hours."
Sarah inputs new data from her workstation across the operations center. The map updates with terrain analysis, approach vectors, intercept points. Her fingers move across the keyboard with the precision of someone who's built a career on finding patterns in chaos, but tension radiates from hershoulders. She's burying the anxiety while we plan how to keep the team alive.
"Recommended intercept point is here." I highlight a canyon well short of the ridge. "It's a narrow approach, limited sight lines. It forces them into a choke point where you'll have tactical advantage."
"What's Reeve's force composition?" Dylan asks.
"Unknown. Cross's latest intel suggests he's traveling light but we have to assume he's got backup somewhere in the area." I pull up the encrypted message Cross sent minutes ago. "Committee standard operating procedure puts backup teams on reconnaissance missions this deep in contested territory."
"Equipment?"
"SIGINT intercept gear confirmed. They're likely carrying portable surveillance packages, encrypted sat-comms, standard small arms. Cross flagged that Reeve requisitioned long-range optics from Committee logistics weeks ago."
Kane's jaw tightens. Long-range optics mean Reeve's planning to conduct extended observation, not just a quick survey. He wants to map our entire operation before reporting back to Webb.
"Time to intercept?" Stryker's already calculating movement rates in his head.
"You've got time if you move now. Reeve's pace suggests he'll reach the canyon by mid-afternoon. You set up before he arrives, you control the engagement."
"And if we don't?" Mercer's question hangs in the air.
"Then he reaches that ridge and we're compromised. Webb gets confirmation of our location, this facility becomes a target, and everything we've built here dies."
Echo Ridge isn't just a base. It's home for most of the people here. It's the safe place they've built after the Committeedestroyed their previous lives. Losing it means starting over, assuming we survive Webb's response to finding us.
"We're not letting that happen." Kane's voice carries absolute certainty. "Dylan, Stryker, Mercer—final gear check, wheels up in thirty."
Dylan and the others head for the armory, moving with purpose. Khalid will be awake soon, the teenager's routine as disciplined as any operator's despite Mercer's attempts to let him just be a kid. The boy lost his family to the Committee—Mercer quietly took him under his wing, giving him the closest thing to family he could until they joined Echo Ridge.
Kane lingers, studying the tactical display with the focus of a man who's planned hundreds of operations and knows the difference between theory and reality.
"Cross confident in her intel?" he asks.
"As confident as she gets. Reeve's been feeding the Committee information through channels she's monitoring. His last transmission confirmed he'd narrowed the search grid to this mountain range."
"But not this specific location."
"Not yet. He's still searching, just getting close enough that the margin for error is shrinking." I zoom the map in on the intercept point. "You stop him in that canyon, he never gets the chance to confirm anything."
Kane nods slowly. "Micah, I need you running tactical support from here. Sarah maintains communications, you coordinate real-time intel and adjust for any surprises."
"Already planned on it. I'll have satellite coverage tracked at regular intervals, Cross feeding any updates on Committee movement in the area, and Sarah monitoring all encrypted channels in case Reeve makes contact with his handlers."
"Good." Kane extends his hand. "Keep us alive out there."
I grip his hand, meet his eyes. "Count on it."
He leaves to join his team. The operations center empties except for Sarah and me, the silence broken only by the hum of equipment and the soft clicks of her keyboard as she pulls up communications protocols.
I cross to her workstation. "You good?"
"I'm fine." The lie doesn't reach her eyes, terror buried beneath the trained analyst's mask. "Comms are set, encryption running on rotating keys, relay stations configured for valley terrain."
