Page 46 of Crossfire Creek Siege

“Good,” Noah said, his voice low and grim. “Because I’ve got a feeling whoever’s running this is about to make their next move.”

Chapter Thirteen

The corridor between headquarters and the barracks was long, narrow, and quiet, their footsteps echoing off the concrete floor. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting pale light over the steel-gray walls lined with security panels and keypads.

Rena matched Gage’s stride, though every muscle in her body protested. Her shoulder throbbed, her head pounded, and even though it was only nine pm, the fatigue had sunk deep into her bones. They’d been in the briefing room for hours with Noah, Isla, Owen, Ruby, and the sheriff going over data until their eyes burned.

And for what?

Two vague coordinates and more damn questions than answers.

“Call it a night,” Noah had said. But Rena wasn’t sure she could call this anything close to rest. Not with her pulse still humming from frustration and pain.

She blew out a breath, rubbing the back of her neck as they turned a corner. “We’re running in circles, Gage. Two possible compounds, no addresses, no proof they even exist.”

“Yeah. But we’ll find them,” he insisted.

She wanted to believe him, but the uncertainty sat heavy. Somewhere out there, the person who’d orchestrated the siege was still breathing, still planning. And that made every echo in this quiet hallway feel like a threat.

When they reached the barracks, Gage went straight for the ibuprofen and grabbed two bottles of water from the mini-fridge. He handed her one, and they downed the meds together in silence. The cold water hit her stomach like a rock.

Rena leaned back against the counter, her thoughts drifting to the pile of bad news they’d collected over the past several hours. Rhett had readily admitted to owning the helicopters, saying he’d bought them for a new business venture. A Crossfire Ops type security outfit he was starting up. According to him, the choppers hadn’t been purchased through shell companies but under his new company’s name. He’d even allowed Sheriff Chase access to his new headquarters, still under construction, where the helicopters were parked.

Maybe he was telling the truth. Or maybe there’d been three choppers, not two, and one had gone down in flames during the party. But so far, there was no proof. Just more loose threads and half-truths, and Rena was running out of patience trying to tie them all together.

“You want a nightcap?” Gage asked, drawing her attention back to him.

They’d had takeout burgers earlier with Noah and the others, but her stomach gave a small growl. Before she could say anything, he didn’t head for the alcohol but instead he went back to the mini-fridge and pulled out two ice cream sandwiches.

He held them up. “This kind of nightcap.”

Despite the exhaustion dragging at her, Rena smiled. “Now that, I can get behind.”

They settled on the couch, the wrappers crinkling in the quiet. The first bite was cold enough to sting her teeth, but it was comfort she didn’t realize she’d needed.

For a few moments, neither said anything. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was the sound of two people too tired to pretend they weren’t still replaying the last twenty-four hours in their heads.

Gage broke it first. “We’ll find those training compounds,” he emphasized. “And when we do, it’ll lead us straight to whoever’s pulling the strings.”

“Hope you’re right,” she said quietly.

He gave her a faint grin. “You’ll see. I usually am.”

She huffed out a laugh and shook her head. “Cocky.”

“Optimistic,” he countered.

For the first time all day, the heaviness in her chest loosened. Maybe it was the sugar rush, or maybe it was the rare comfort of sitting beside someone who understood exactly what it felt like to walk through hell and keep moving anyway.

Their phones buzzed, the sharp sound breaking the fragile quiet that had settled between them. She sighed and pulled it from her pocket, her thumb swiping across the screen. Gage did the same, and she saw that it was a group message from Sheriff Chase to Noah, Isla, Gage, and her.

“Brady’s out of the hospital already,” she read aloud so that Gage wouldn’t have to bother opening it. “Says his injury’s not serious. He refused police protection.”

Gage gave a low grunt. “Of course he did. Man’s got an ego big enough to block bullets.”

Rena’s mouth twisted. “And Rhett’s walked free, too. Sheriff didn’t have enough to hold him, especially now that he’s admitted to owning the choppers. His lawyers are pushing the ‘DNA was planted’ story hard.”

Gage leaned back, the ice cream sandwich melting in his hand, forgotten. “Convenient defense. Too convenient.”