On the morning of the third day, Coulter found Emma before anyone else was up.

He set coffee in front of her.

We have a problem.

The witness.

I tried to make contact last night through the protocol.

Encrypted channel.

Rotating codes.

I got a response.

It was not from them.

Emma felt the floor shift.

Someone has the channel.

Someone has the channel and the codes.

Which means someone with access to our internal communications has been working Coyote Ridge’s side longer than Renie’s uncle.

Who has access.

Three people.

Me.

Marcus.

And one other.

He said the name quietly.

May.

Outside, tires ripped across gravel.

Fast.

Multiple vehicles.

Not motorcycles.

The first shot took out the front floodlight at 6:43 a.m.

Darkness swallowed the compound.

Four seconds later, the backup generator caught.

Amber lights came on along the inner fence line.

The compound became something else.

Not a collection of buildings.

A defended body.

Coulter was already moving.

A hidden panel opened in the wall.

Down.

Emma dropped behind a table.

Outside, doors opened with controlled quiet.

Men exited vehicles without shouting.

Inside, every Iron Wolf moved to a position as if the room itself had assigned them years ago.

Marcus entered at a low run.

Six at the gate.

Two vehicles south perimeter.

Trying to find the third.

There is a third.

Coulter did not ask.

There is always a third.

Emma took inventory because training had made fear into numbers.

Six at the gate.

Two vehicles south.

Third unlocated.

Sixteen total.

Eight unaccounted for.

May absent.

Where is May.

Coulter’s eyes found her.

Marcus already had the radio up.

Then the south wall took an impact.

Not an explosion.

Something heavy slammed into corrugated metal and bent it inward.

A low, wide gap opened.

Grady moved beside it.

A hand came through.

Grady did something final to it.

Emma looked away.

The gate is noise, Coulter said.

The real entry was the south wall.

Emma saw the pattern.

The vehicle bay.

Marcus turned to her.

The south wall of the bay is the thinnest.

Brick said it during the walkthrough.

Marcus called Brick before she finished.

Static.

Then Brick’s voice.

Already on it.

Got two.

Stand by.

The radio cut.

Coulter crossed to Emma and took her elbow.

Back room.

Lock the door.

The window faces the inner yard.

If you see anyone you do not recognize, do not open it.

I can help.

You are helping.

You’re not dead.

That is help.

He looked at her.

I need you not dead, Emma.

That is the job right now.

She went.

In the back room, she locked the door and killed the lamp.

The window looked onto the inner yard.

Amber light touched the hard ground outside.

Then Brick came running through it.

Behind him, two figures closed fast.

Emma threw open the window.

Here.

Brick turned, adjusted, and came through in a controlled crash that barely remained controlled.

He rolled, stood, and looked at the door.

Lock it.

It is locked.

Good.

How many behind me.

Two.

Third probably circling to the hallway.

His radio was dead.

Blood ran from his face.

You good.

Yes.

Stay behind me.

The doorframe splintered minutes later.

Brick moved toward the breach instead of away.

The room became noise, motion, impact.

Emma’s hands found the heavy ceramic lamp base on the dresser.

She used it.

When the room went still, Brick was on one knee, two strangers were on the floor, and Emma stood shaking with the lamp base in both hands.

I said stay behind me.

You were on the floor.

Brick looked at her, then at the lamp.

You okay.

Stop asking me that.

He almost smiled.

We move.

They entered the main room.

Furniture had been dragged into tactical channels.

Marcus worked the radio at the far wall.

Grady stood in a doorway.

Coulter stood in the center of the room.

Across from him, against the wall near the front door, stood May.

She looked exactly like May.

That made it worse.

Silver hair.

Straight posture.

Efficient eyes.

But grief lived openly in her face now.

How long.

Coulter’s voice was flat enough to break on.

Since September.

Why.

Because they had Danny.

The name moved through the room like a wound reopening.

Danny has been out for four years.

He was out.

Then he wasn’t.

They told me what they would do to him.

I know what these people mean when they say things like that.

You should have told me.

I know.

I would have gone after him.

I know.

That is why I didn’t.

May’s voice cracked.

Then two people would have been trapped instead of one.

Coulter looked at her with a pain too controlled to be called anger.

Where is Danny now.

I don’t know.

September was the last proof I had.

After that, they did not need to show me anymore.

I was already in.

Marcus stepped closer.

The channel breach.

How much did you give them.

Everything I had access to.

The witness location.

No.

Her answer cut sharply through the room.

Coulter never put that on the channel.

I gave them routes, timing, security rotations.

I did not give them Ramirez.

Ramirez.

The witness had a name.

They do not believe you, Marcus said.

That is why they are here.

May looked only at Coulter.

Whatever else I am, and I know what I am, I never gave them that.

A long silence.

Coulter turned to Marcus.

Secure room.

We’re not done talking.

But not now.

May went without resistance.

Then the fight shifted again.

Seven reported the gate team falling back.

Renie called from the supply building roof, voice breathless and older than yesterday.

Black SUV on the east road.

No lights.

Two occupants.

Waiting.

For what.

Emma heard the answer before anyone said it.

They are waiting for someone to run.

The room turned.

They do not care about taking the compound.

They want Coulter mobile.

May confirmed they do not have Ramirez.

They need him away from here, somewhere prepared.

Marcus stared at the map.

The Demon Run corridor.

The rally is tomorrow.

It is in six hours, Marcus said.

It has been in six hours since before any of this started.

The diner, the compound, the attack.

All of it was pressure to make Coulter move east.

So we don’t run, Grady said.

We don’t run, Coulter said.

And we don’t hold.

Both responses were built for.

He looked at Emma.

You said three days.

It has been three days.

They moved immediately.

Not east.

Not the direct route.

Two alternate roads.

Split formation.

Engines roared through the injured compound as the gates opened.

Emma climbed onto the bike behind Coulter.

This time there was no Brick between her and the road.

She put her hands at Coulter’s waist and felt the engine vibrate through both of them.

The compound fell away.

The desert opened.

Behind them, the black SUV finally moved, already late to the angle they had chosen.

Three miles out, a handheld beam swept once in the field to their left.