I watch Reeve's team move deeper into the canyon, completely unaware that four Echo Ridge operators have them zeroed in. The geometry of the ambush is perfect—overlappingfields of fire, limited cover, nowhere to run even if they survive the initial contact.
Sarah makes a small sound in the back of her throat, something between worry and anticipation. I want to reach for her hand, offer some kind of comfort, but my focus stays locked on the tactical picture.
"Stand by," Kane says quietly.
The canyon walls rise on either side of Reeve's team, funneling them into the kill zone with mathematical precision. Kane's team has every advantage surprise and terrain can provide.
Then Kane's voice cuts through the silence, cold and professional.
"Wait. Hold fire."
I freeze. "Say again?"
"Target team has stopped movement. They're setting up equipment."
I watch the thermal signatures halt their forward progress. "What kind of equipment?"
A pause while Kane observes through his scope. "Long-range surveillance gear. Optics, tripods, data recording packages." Another pause. "Micah, they're aiming everything toward the valley. Toward Echo Base."
My stomach drops. Reeve's not just conducting reconnaissance anymore. He's setting up to confirm our exact location, record everything for transmission back to Committee leadership.
"Kane, can you confirm what they're targeting?"
"Stand by." Long seconds stretch out. "Confirmed. Their surveillance equipment is aimed directly at the valley where Echo Base is located. If they power up that gear and start recording, they'll have visual confirmation within minutes."
Sarah's face has gone pale beside me. This is the nightmare scenario we've been trying to prevent—Reeve getting close enough, equipped enough, positioned correctly enough to confirm Echo Base's location before we can stop him.
"Distance to target?" I ask Kane.
"Within optimal range. Clear fields of fire. We can take them before they finish setup."
They're within range. Well within range for trained operators with good equipment and perfect positioning. But once we engage, there's no going back. We'll have no second chances if the backup team is closer than we think.
"Secondary team status?" I ask Sarah.
Her fingers fly across the keyboard. "Still holding position south of Reeve. No change in their movement pattern."
They're south of Reeve. That's probably far enough that they won't hear the engagement, depending on terrain and wind. Probably.
If Kane's team engages now, they can eliminate Reeve and destroy his surveillance equipment before he confirms Echo Base's location. Then extract before the secondary team arrives. Mission accomplished, threat neutralized.
But the margin for error is paper-thin. One variable we didn't account for, one piece of bad luck, and this turns into a running firefight against superior numbers in terrain that favors neither side.
"Micah." Kane's voice carries urgency now. "They're powering up the equipment. We need to make the call."
He's right. In moments, maybe less, Reeve's surveillance gear will be active and recording. Everything we've done to protect Echo Base's location, all the protocols we've built, the security measures we've implemented—none of it matters if Reeve gets confirmation and transmits it back to Webb.
I look at Sarah. She's staring at the tactical display, watching the thermal signatures representing Reeve's team as they set up equipment that will destroy the life we're trying to protect.
Every instinct I have screams at me to find another way. But there isn't one. Not anymore.
"Execute," I tell Kane. "Engage and destroy all surveillance equipment. No survivors."
"Copy that. Engaging now."
The radio goes silent. I watch the thermal signatures on the screen, waiting for the moment Kane's team opens fire. Sarah's gone completely still beside me, her breathing shallow.
The seconds stretch out. Then gunfire cracks through Kane's open mic.
