“This fits,” Lachlan said. He’d been listening with his forearms on the table and his fingers laced together. “We’ve been dealing with this operation for months. They’re smart about it. They set up on a property, use it for a few weeks, clear out before anyone catches on, and move to the next one.”
He unlaced his fingers and spread his hands flat on the table. “By the time I get the jurisdictional approvals to act, they’re already gone. I’ve been one step behind at every turn, and the red tape is the reason. I can’t move fast enough through official channels.” He looked at me and Logan. “That’s why my department has been working with Warrior Security on this.”
This was a man who knew what it felt like to fight a system that moved too slowly to help. He was done watching people get hurt while he waited for permission to act. “I’ve authorized Warrior Security to handle this operation. My department will keep it official in the books, but they’ll be boots on the ground so we don’t lose these bastards again.”
“The window on this is narrow,” Hunter said. “You guys didn’t confront them tonight, which works to our advantage. They left because they were done for the night, which means they plan to come back.”
“They had no idea we were there,” Logan said. “As far as they know, Pawsitive is still wide open.”
“Which means if we’re set up and waiting when they come back, we’ve got them,” Hunter said. “But every hour that passes is an hour something tips them off. We move tomorrow night.”
The room absorbed that. Tomorrow night. Less than twenty-four hours.
“We set up on the property before dark,” Hunter said. “Positions around the shed and the access road. When they come in, we’re already there. They drive into us before they know we’re waiting.”
He looked at me. “Which means we need to know that ground. Every sight line, every piece of cover, every way in and out.”
This, I could help with. Nobody knew that property better than me. “The shed is in the back corner of the property, behind a stand of Ponderosa pines. You can’t see it from the house or the barn. The trees screen it completely from the north and east.”
Everyone’s gaze shifted to me.
“The access road runs along the south boundary and connects to the county route about half a mile out. A vehicle can reach the shed from that road without coming anywhere near the main buildings.” I’d walked that boundary a hundred times. Checked that fence after every storm.
“There’s a ridge to the west,” Logan added. “Runs roughly north-south along the property line. After dark, anyone on that ridge with moonlight behind them is visible from below.”
“Which means overwatch from the ridge is out,” Cooper said.
“What’s overwatch?” I asked.
“A high position where someone can see the whole area and cover the team below,” Logan said.
“Then no, the ridge isn’t necessarily out.” I leaned forward. “It drops off on the west side into a gully. If you’re on the far side of the crest, nobody at the shed can see you, and you could move up to the crest to see the whole area when you needed to.”
Cooper leaned forward. “How deep is the gully?”
“Deep enough to stand in. The ground is rocky on that side, not soft. You won’t leave tracks.”
Cooper nodded, looking pleased.
“What about the tree line along the south boundary?” Hunter asked. “How thick is that?”
“Thick enough to conceal movement,” Logan said. “But there are gaps. If you know where to look, you can see through in places.”
“The thinnest stretch is about two hundred yards east of where the access road enters,” I added. “There’s a section where a couple of older pines came down two winters ago. I never cleared them because they weren’t in the way of anything. The canopy is thinner there, and the ground cover is low.”
Logan smiled at me. “That’s your entry point,” he said to Hunter.
Hunter nodded slowly.
“What about between the shed and the main property?” Beckett asked.
“There’s a low channel that cuts east to west across the property,” I said. “Like a ditch, but natural. It runs between the back pasture and the shed. You can cross it on foot, but a vehicle can’t get through. When we get heavy rain, it floods, and even when it’s dry, the banks are steep enough that you’d need to climb down and back up.”
“Natural barrier,” Cooper said.
“Between the shed and anything that matters to me.” I heard my own voice harden. “Everything I care about is on the north side of that draw. The barn, the house, the animals. Whatever they’re doing, they’ve been doing it on the far side, but I still want them gone.”
Travis’s voice cut in from the monitor. “Cell service on the access road?”
