"Tyler's contact needs clean evidence. We show up with bodies, we're not witnesses—we're perpetrators. Any judge Whitfield doesn't own looks at corpses and sees exactly what she wants them to see." I let that land. "We neutralize guards quietly, and only if really needed. Zip ties. Tranq darts. They wake up with headaches, not holes."
"And if it goes loud?" Axel's question from the side wall.
"Tank and Axel wait outside the perimeter with backup teams. Two vehicles, hidden in the dark, further away from the ranch, ready to move if we call for support."
I looked at Tank. Then Axel. Both of them looked back. "You're our insurance. If guards spot us, if Wolves show up early, you come in fast and you get us out. But the goal is you never have to move at all."
Tank nodded. A single movement from the corner. "Understood." Axel dipped his chin from the far wall. Same answer, no words.
"Declan—overwatch. Find a position with sight lines on the main building and worker housing. You're our early warning. Anyone approaches that we don't expect, you call it."
"What's my range?"
"Unknown until Ghost and Logan have eyes on the property. Plan for anything up to eight hundred meters."
"I'll bring the long rifle."
"Medical." Kai's voice from beside Axel.
"You and Rosa stage with Tank's team. Separate vehicle, supplies ready." I looked at Rosa near the door. Her dark eyes met mine—steady, calm. "Any volunteers we extract might need triage. You handle immediate needs before we move."
Rosa nodded. Her hand adjusted the bag on her shoulder. Ready.
"Vehicles?" Tank's voice from the corner.
"Two vans for the backup teams. One more for the extraction—something that can hold fifteen people if we get that many volunteers." I looked at him. "Can you get them ready by tonight?"
"I know a guy in North Vegas. Owes me a favor." Tank's massive arms crossed over his chest. "He'll have something big that runs quiet and holds weight."
"Comms?" Irish, already pulling his phone.
"Encrypted frequencies. Three channels—command, scout team, breach team. You coordinate."
"We'll have the equipment prepped by sundown." Irish looked to Declan and Nolan. Declan dipped his chin once. Nolan was already making notes.
"Timeline." I turned back to the whiteboard. "We move tomorrow, late afternoon. Arrive after dark. Ghost and Logan scout first. Once they radio, Irish and I move on the housing on their instructions. We're in and out in under two hours. Evidence gets photographed and transmitted to Tyler and Nolan, who contact Tyler's prosecutor before we're back across the state line. By the time the Wolves figure out something happened, we're already home and the feds are moving."
The room was still. Processing.
"What about the Iron Wolves?" Ghost's question came quieter now. "They're still out there. Still working for Whitfield."
"One thing at a time." Hawk's voice cut through. "We get the evidence. We get Tyler's contact moving. Once Whitfield's network starts falling, the Wolves lose their protection. They become a problem we can solve later—or a problem that solves itself."
The room answered with shifts of posture, tightening of jaws. The way armed men settle when the mission is clear.
"Tomorrow late afternoon," Hawk confirmed. "We prep today. We rest tonight." His eyes moved around the room. "This isn't just about clearing our names. It's about ending something that should have ended seven years ago. Something that's been hitting us directly for too long. We do this right."
They filed out. Tank toward the motor pool. Irish toward his equipment stash. Declan toward the armory. Ghost with a new steadiness in his step, the energy channeled into purpose.
I stayed at the whiteboard. Logan stayed beside me.
The map of the Billings operation stared back. His drawing. My plan. His knowledge and my intent on the same whiteboard. Across the room, Hawk stood in the doorway. Watching us. The assessment look still on his face. I caught his glance and held it.
He nodded once. The slight easing of tension around his jaw that meant approval. Then he turned and walked out, leaving us alone with the whiteboard and the plan.
"You're not just planning a rescue." Logan's voice was low. For me alone. "You're planning a war."
"The war started seven years ago." I looked at him. Blue eyes steady. Jaw set. "We're just the first people willing to fight it."
