I look at the wounded contractor. "Helena, keep him stable. We'll finish this conversation after we deal with his friends."
The next assault is more brutal than the first.
The contractors hit both positions simultaneously. Tactical coordination. Suppressing fire while they advance. Using smoke grenades to obscure sight lines.
Finn holds the western window, adjusting fire to cover the eastern threats when they present. Zeke's position takes heavy fire but he holds, putting controlled rounds downrange. I rotate between the southern window and supporting the eastern position when the pressure gets too heavy.
The firefight grinds on. Minutes stretching into what feels like hours. The contractors are experienced. They don't break easy. Cover, coordinated movement, forcing us to burn ammunition faster than I'd like.
We're holding. Barely, but holding.
A contractor makes it within spitting distance of the compound's eastern wall. Too close. Zeke can't get an angle without exposing himself. I move to the window, acquire the target through the scope. The contractor's face fills the sight picture—young, determined, trained. I squeeze the trigger. He drops.
Another one tries the same approach from the south. My shot catches him mid-advance. Body shot, just above the armor line. He crumples, blood spreading across the snow.
The assault's losing momentum. They're taking too many casualties. Skilled operatives know when to cut losses.
"They're pulling back," Finn reports. "The eastern team is in full retreat."
"South too," I confirm.
I watch through the scope as the contractors fall back. Coordinated withdrawal under covering fire. Disciplined to the end.
But they leave another one behind. This one's not wounded. Just pinned down behind a rock outcropping, cut off from his team during the retreat. No way back without crossing open ground under our fire.
"We've got one isolated on the eastern perimeter," I tell Zeke. "Can you cover while I get him?"
"On it."
I move outside. The snow's falling heavier now. The contractor sees me coming, tries to bring his weapon around. I'm on him before he can complete the movement. Rifle butt to his face. He goes down. I secure his hands with zip-ties, drag him inside.
Minutes later I've got him in the communications room. His hands are secured, weapon confiscated. He's younger than the first one. Scared but trying not to show it.
Now we've got two.
Helena's already finished stabilizing the first contractor. She looks at the second one, assesses him for injuries. Bruising on his face from where I hit him. Nothing serious.
"He's uninjured. Just scared."
"Good. Fear makes people talk."
I separate them. The first contractor stays in the main room with Zeke watching him. The second one stays in the communications room with Finn monitoring. Don't want them coordinating stories.
I start with the older one. The one who's been doing this long enough to know how bad his situation is.
I pull up a chair. Sit. Death in my eyes. Cordite still on my clothes. He can see exactly what's coming.
"You're going to tell me everything about this contract. How you were hired. How many operators. Where they're staging. All of it."
"And if I don't?"
I lean closer. Show him the operational headspace still running behind my eyes. "Helena patches you up just enough to keep you conscious while I ask again. And I've got all night. We can do this easy or we can do it hard. Your choice."
He looks at Helena. Back at me. Calculates his odds. Realizes he doesn't have any.
"Okay," he says quietly. "Okay. I'll talk."
He does. Tells us his crew was hired through an intermediary less than a day ago. Offered premium pay for immediate deployment to a compound in Alaska. Told minimal resistance. In and out. Eliminate one witness. No complications.
