"Finn Ashworth." We shake. It's brief, firm. First time meeting but Zeke vouched for him, which counts for something. "Appreciate you doing this."
"Zeke explained the situation. You've got a trafficking survivor who can identify the Marshal, and the network sent professionals to retrieve her." Finn's expression hardens. "We've dealt with their operations before. They don't get to win this time."
Cara's attention shifts to Traci, still sitting in the truck. "She doing okay?"
"Physically healing. Psychologically, she's barely holding together. Won't speak. Communicates through writing when she feels safe enough." I glance at Helena. "Dr. Sage has been managing her medical care."
Helena steps forward. "Finn, Cara—thank you for doing this. For the safe space."
"Of course," Cara says. She gestures toward the compound. "We've got a guest cabin with secure rooms set up for you and Traci as well as a small infirmary with medical supplies. You'll have space to work."
I move to the truck, and open Traci's door. "Come meet the people who'll be helping us."
She climbs out slowly and scans the compound with those careful eyes that miss nothing. Finn and Cara keep their distance, give her room to adjust.
"Traci," I say. "This is Finn and Cara. They're going to make sure nobody finds us here."
Traci looks at Finn. At Cara. At the compound's reinforced structure and defensive positioning. Her shoulders drop slightly. It's not trust, but recognition. These people understand threats.
"Let's get you settled," Cara says. Keeps her voice level, non-threatening. "The secure room has a window, good sight lines, and a lock on the inside. You control access. Nobody comes in unless you want them there."
Traci pulls out her notebook. Writes. Shows it to Cara.
Where's the nearest exit?
"Three routes." Cara points. "Main entrance through the building. Side door in the secure wing. Emergency exit through the workshop that connects to a trail into the forest. All marked. All tested."
Traci studies the layout. Nods. Satisfied that escape routes exist.
Helena collects her bags. "Show me the medical setup. I want to make sure Traci's routine stays consistent."
Cara leads them inside. I grab gear from the truck—rifle, ammunition, tactical bag with everything I'll need if this position gets tested. Finn waits while I unload.
"Zeke briefed me," he says. "Gary Kern's been canvassing Glacier Hollow. Former military contractor with direct ties to Haywood's network. Professional operative running reconnaissance in broad daylight."
"Which means they're confident enough to show their faces. Or desperate enough to take risks." I shoulder the rifle. "Either way, they're coming. Question is when and how hard."
"The compound can handle a direct assault. Reinforced walls, defensive positions, enough firepower to make them reconsider. But if they bring serious numbers, we'll need backup."
"Zeke's coordinating with Rhys. Federal task force is aware but we're not trusting official channels. Too much corruption." I scan the perimeter. Motion sensors positioned at intervals, overlapping coverage, no blind spots. "You've built a solid position here."
"Cara's idea. If things went sideways, we knew we'd need somewhere defensible if the network came hunting." Finn's expression darkens. "They've tried before. Sent contractors to my old place. Didn't end well for them."
"Good. Let them know what happens when they push."
We head inside the guest cabin. The main structure opens into a common area—kitchen, living space, tactical planning area with maps on one wall. Hallways branch off toward sleeping quarters and the secure wing where Traci will stay.
Helena's voice carries from down the hall. "This setup works. I can maintain her medical routine here without compromising security."
I follow the sound and find Helena and Cara in a room that's been converted into the infirmary. Cabinets stocked with supplies, an examination table and equipment that looks professionally sourced. Helena's unpacking her bag, organizing her own items with the precision of someone who adapts quickly to new situations.
Watching her work pulls my focus when I should be assessing defensive positions. The controlled movements. The competence. The way she owns the room without announcing it.
"Impressive," she says without looking up. "You've got better equipment here than some rural clinics."
"We've needed it before," Cara says. "Trafficking survivors coming through, people recovering from injuries who can't risk hospital documentation. Finn and I learned to maintain operational medical capability."
Helena finishes organizing. Straightens. Meets Cara's eyes with professional respect. "Thank you. Consistency matters for Traci right now more than anything. Being able to maintain her routine in a secure environment could be what keeps her from regressing."
