Deck steps forward. "If we're doing this, we do it right. Sully, I need you to trace the source of those communications. Find out where they're operating from. Mace, coordinate with the FBI. We want backup in place before we make any moves. Wolfe, double the perimeter patrols. No one gets within a mile of this compound without us knowing."
"And me?" I ask.
Deck looks at Boone, then back at me. "You stay close to Boone. He's your shadow until this is over."
"I can live with that."
Boone's hand tightens on mine. "You'd better. Because I'm not letting you out of my sight."
The team disperses, everyone moving with purpose. But Boone doesn't move. He just stands there, holding my hand, looking at me like I'm the only thing in the world that matters.
"We're going to get through this," I tell him.
"I know." But his voice is uncertain. Scared in a way I've never heard from him.
"Boone." I step closer, wrapping my arms around his waist. "I trust you. Whatever happens, I trust you to keep me safe."
He pulls me against him, his face buried in my hair. "That's what terrifies me. What if I can't? What if I fail, like I failed before?"
"You won't." I pull back to look at him. "Because this time, you're not alone. We're in this together. And I'm a lot harder to kill than I look."
His laugh is shaky, but real. "That's not as comforting as you think it is."
"It wasn't meant to be comforting." I stretch up to kiss him. "It was meant to be true."
We stand there in the empty lodge, holding each other as the sun sets over the mountains. Tomorrow, we face the threat. Tonight, we have this.
And for now, that's enough.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BOONE
The plan is solid. I've checked it seventeen times.
Sully traced the communications to a rental property twelve miles outside Whisper Vale. Satellite imagery shows three vehicles, at least six hostiles, and what looks like a mobile command center. The FBI is positioned two miles out, waiting for our signal. Wolfe has eyes on the property from a ridge half a mile away.
Everything is in place. Every variable accounted for. Every contingency mapped.
So why does my gut keep screaming that something is wrong?
"Boone." Deck's voice pulls me from the tactical display. "You've been staring at that screen for an hour. The plan is good."
"The plan is adequate." I drag a hand over my face. "There are still too many unknowns. We don't know their full numbers. We don't know their weapons capability. We don't know if David Chen gave them information about Guardian Peak's security protocols."
"We know enough to act."
"Acting without complete information is how people die."
Deck is quiet for a moment. Then he moves to stand beside me, his voice low enough that only I can hear.
"This isn't just about tactical uncertainty, is it?"
I don't answer.
"Boone. Talk to me."
"I can't lose her." The words come out rough, scraped from somewhere deep. "I know that's not tactical. I know it compromises the mission. But I look at this plan, and all I can see are the ways it could go wrong. The ways she could get hurt."
