Not close enough to matter here.
Yet.
Below us, guards continue their rotations.
Steady.
Predictable.
Relaxed.
They have no idea we’re here.
Lucas adjusts beside me, checking the suppressor on his rifle one final time.
“East tower rotates every forty seconds,” he murmurs.
Miles nods from the other side of the ridge.
“South patrol overlaps blind spot for six seconds near the gate.”
Russ studies the compound through binoculars.
“Entry team hits west wall. Quiet first. Loud if necessary.”
Standard.
Controlled.
Clean.
My pulse still pounds too hard anyway.
Because she’s in there.
Or at least she was.
I grip my rifle tighter and force myself to breathe slower.
Focus.
Emotion later.
Movement catches my attention near the courtyard.
Two armed men emerge from the main building dragging another man between them.
Blood trails behind his boots.
Still alive.
Barely.
I watch one guard shove him hard toward the ground.
No hesitation.
No mercy.
