And somehow that thought makes me feel safer than it should.
I hate that.
Hate how badly I want to see him walk through that door.
Hate that part of me trusts him to.
I close my eyes briefly and lean my head back against the wall.
Focus, Hannah.
Feelings are distractions.
Distractions get people hurt.
Still—
When sleep finally starts pulling at me hours later, one thought lingers stubbornly at the front of my mind.
Clay is coming.
And God help whoever stands in his way when he does.
7
Clay
The compound sits dark against the mountainside.
Too dark.
No perimeter lights.
Minimal movement.
Just enough activity to tell me somebody inside knows exactly what they’re doing.
I study the structure through night vision from our position along the ridge.
Concrete walls.
Two guard towers.
One main gate.
Vehicles parked inside the courtyard.
And armed patrols moving in controlled patterns.
Definitely not random militia.
“Thermal confirms at least twelve hostiles,” Lucas murmurs beside me. “Possibly more inside.”
I stay silent, tracking movement near the eastern wall.
One guard pauses near a side entrance.
Another circles the courtyard slowly with a rifle hanging loose against his chest.
