“Grab a rifle,” Kara told her without breaking stride.
She ducked into the command room. Kara’s eyes cut to me. “Stay with Sabine. Keep her upstairs until we clear the perimeter.”
I crossed to the weapons cabinet and pulled a rifle free, checking the chamber.
“I’ll be in the upstairs hallway.”
“Yep.” Alex focused on her console, voice low as she relayed camera feeds into comms.
The side door shut behind them left the foyer quiet but for the muffled alarm. I ran up the stairs, the rifle solid in my grip.
Keeping her safe was my job. Pretending that was all it was—that was the lie.
15
Kara
The courtyard air bitcool against my skin. The alarm thrummed in my ear like a danger metronome. Shadows stretched across the walls, every shape an enemy until I cleared it myself.
Cam moved a step ahead, body angled left. Her rifle tracked the perimeter in smooth arcs. I swept right, the pattern automatic. We had cleared ground like this a hundred times before. Tonight the only difference was the reason we were here.
The shift was immediate and complete. Lockdown was not a drill. No second guessing. Threat was assumed until proven otherwise. Until we had eyes on the south gate, this place was compromised.
I adjusted the strap of my rifle against my shoulder, the stock tight, the reticle steady on the darker line of trees past the courtyard wall. Movement there would mean escalation. It would mean Sabine was in danger, and nothing got close to her. Not while I was standing.
Cam’s hand flicked, a signal forward. I acknowledged with a nod and kept my angle. Her breathing was even in my ear, a steady counterpoint to the alarm. No wasted movement. No wasted words.
The black SUV sat by the garage, dark against the low light spilling from the house. Cam kept her MP7 up as we closed the distance, her stride steady and sure. I slowed a half step short of the hood and brought my SCAR to my chest. The chamber check snapped loud in the quiet.
Cam angled to the driver’s side. She popped the door and slid in without hesitation, setting the submachine gun next to her. I pulled the passenger door open and slid inside. The rifle laid across my knees, safety clicked to fire, one finger resting light against the guard.
“Command, Bravo moving,” I said into the mic, voice clipped.
Alex’s voice came back low, threaded with static. “South gate motion sensor still tripped. No visuals.”
“Copy.” I glanced at Cam as she started the engine, dash lights washing faint blue over her face. Her eyes stayed locked forward, hands set on the wheel at ten and two.
I toggled the second channel. “Ellie, keep her in the room. Lock it down until I give the all clear.”
The pause was short, voice curt when it came. “Copy.”
The word clipped clean, but I pictured her standing outside Sabine's door, rifle up, every line of her body making sure the reporter stayed put. Good. That was where she needed to be. Out here, we would clear the line. In there, Ellie would hold it.
Cam shifted the SUV into gear, tires crunching as she accelerated on gravel track. The headlights swept wide arcs across the property road. The beams caught low brush and the shimmer of dew on grass. Tires ground over loose stone, every crunch sharp in the night.
My eyes ran the pattern I had drilled into myself a hundred times. Left treeline first, shadows deep where the branches crowded low. Right drainage ditch, narrow but long enough for someone to lie flat and wait. The iron fence gleamed ahead under the moonlight. Every detail logged, every gap measured for what it could hide.
“South camera feed still dead,” Alex’s voice broke over the comms, calm but tight. “Motion sensor trip only. No visual contact.”
“Copy,” I answered. My gaze stayed outside, not giving ground to the thought of interference. Bad cable or bad sensor maybe, but until I saw proof, it stayed threat.
Cam kept the SUV steady, eyes cutting side to side, not just trusting me to see it all. The woman was imposing behind the wheel, posture loose but every muscle ready. Good. She was steady in ways a lot of people were not. She could drive one-handed and fire with the other if it came to it.
The land rolled shallow ahead, a line of cedar marking the split where the road bent toward the south gate. My senses spiked with each turn of the tires. This was why the property was layered. Fences were barriers, gates were chokepoints. Anyone who reached this far had already gotten closer than I liked.
I toggled the mic again. “Confirm perimeter trip is single point, south only?”
“Affirmative. No other hits.” Alex’s reply was short. She would be leaning over the console, dark hair draped over one shoulder, eyes tight on the screens.
