No lights.
No wasted sound.
Just shadows slipping through rock and dirt while the desert wind carries cold across the ridge.
Lucas raises two fingers.
Everybody drops low instantly.
I slide forward beside him and look down into the valley below.
There it is.
Concrete compound built against the canyon wall.
Minimal lighting.
Guard rotation every thirty seconds.
Vehicles lined along the east side.
Not military.
Not amateur either.
Enough men to make this ugly.
Good.
Ugly I can handle.
“Thoughts?” Lucas whispers.
I study the movement patterns below without answering immediately.
Two guards near the front entrance.
One pacing the roofline.
Blind spots along the northern wall.
And there—
Partial roof collapse on the western side.
Exposed beams.
Broken structure.
Possible entry point.
“They’re waiting for us,” I say quietly.
Miles shifts beside Clay. “Feels a little obvious.”
“Because it is.”
Nobody argues.
