16. Rook
ROOK
Three black SUVs charged into the harbor.
Engines screamed.
Snow flew beneath their tires.
Passenger windows lowered.
Gunfire erupted.
Rook pulled Sarah behind the steel housing of a boat lift as rounds tore across the docks.
Reef and Maverick opened fire from the eastern warehouse.
Falcon shifted his aim toward the first SUV.
The windshield shattered.
The driver lost control.
The vehicle spun sideways and struck a stack of empty crab traps.
Men poured from the remaining SUVs.
At least twelve.
Maybe more.
The attackers didn’t fire toward the warehouse.
They didn’t target Cutter or the operators controlling the high ground.
Every weapon turned toward Sarah.
Rook’s blood ran cold.
Fathom had been right.
The assault wasn’t intended to destroy Shadow Division.
It was designed to kill the woman beside him before she could talk.
Before she revealed what she knew.
“Protect Sarah!” Rook ordered.
The name went across the team channel.
Not the woman.
Not the target.
Sarah.
Shadow Division answered.
Falcon fired first.
A mercenary fell before he cleared the SUV door.
Sniper followed.
Another attacker disappeared into the snow.
Reef and Maverick drove the second group away from Sarah’s position.
Cutter took cover inside a loading crane and fired toward the harbor gate.
“Southern evacuation complete,” he reported. “All dock workers accounted for.”
That gave Rook one less thing to worry about.
“Shark, status inside?”
“Warehouse secure. No breach.”
His injured voice came through the radio.
“Fathom is tracking Marcus.”
“Stay inside.”
“I know.”
Shark sounded insulted that Rook thought he needed reminding.
Sarah rose from behind the boat lift.
She fired.
Moved.
Fired again.
Three attackers fell within seconds.
Rook watched her fight.
Really watched.
Every question became larger.
She moved like someone who had spent years surviving alone.
No team.
No backup.
No one watching her blind side.
That changed tonight.
Rook moved beside her and fired at a man attempting to flank her.
The mercenary dropped.
Sarah glanced toward him.
“I had him.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you shoot him?”
“Because I was faster.”
A sound escaped her.
Almost a laugh.
The surviving SUV accelerated.
For one second, Rook thought the driver was retreating.
Then the vehicle turned.
Straight toward Sarah.
The engine roared.
The driver wasn’t trying to escape.
He was trying to run her down.
Sarah saw it.
Too late.
The SUV was already closing.
Twenty yards.
Fifteen.
Ten.
Rook sprinted.
Nothing else existed.
Not the gunfire.
Not the storm.
Not the men shouting through his radio.
Only Sarah.
Five yards.
She dove to the side.
The driver adjusted.
Still coming.
Still tracking her.
Rook hit Sarah hard.
The impact carried both of them across the snow-covered dock.
The SUV missed them by inches.
It continued toward the end of the pier.
Cobra’s voice entered the radio.
“Do I have permission now?”
“Yes!”
A controlled explosion erupted beneath the dock ahead of the SUV.
Not enough to destroy the pier.
Enough to collapse an empty service ramp beneath the vehicle’s front wheels.
The SUV pitched forward.
Its undercarriage slammed into the broken ramp and stopped.
Airbags deployed.
The engine died.
“Minimal property damage,” Cobra announced.
Cutter answered immediately.
“We’ll discuss your definition of minimal later.”
Rook rolled onto his back.
Sarah lay half across his chest.
For one suspended moment, neither moved.
Snow drifted around them.
The battle sounded far away.
Muted.
Her face was inches from his.
Gray eyes held his.
Storm-colored.
Exhausted.
Beautiful.
Dangerous.
Rook’s hand rested against her waist.
Sarah’s fingers curled into the front of his jacket.
Neither looked away.
Awareness moved between them.
Stronger this time.
No longer something Rook could dismiss as adrenaline or surprise.
Sarah felt it too.
He saw the realization in her eyes.
Then she pushed herself up.
Fast.
Professional.
Walls returning.
Rook remained on the dock for one second longer.
“You do realize you run toward moving vehicles.”
She brushed snow from her jacket.
“So do you.”
“Fair point.”
The corner of her mouth lifted.
A real smile this time.
Small.
Gone too quickly.
But Rook saw it.
Falcon’s voice entered the radio.
“Reinforcements retreating.”
The surviving mercenaries moved toward the harbor entrance on foot.
“Do not pursue beyond the perimeter,” Rook ordered. “Secure the wounded. We need prisoners.”
“We have three alive,” Reef answered.
“Separate them.”
Rook rose.
Sarah scanned the ridge.
Marcus was gone.
The knowledge settled over her.
Rook stepped beside her.
“We’ll find him.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I just did.”
She looked at him.
Before she could respond, Fathom’s voice entered their radios.
“I confirmed Lane’s connection to the mountain.”
Everyone went still.
“What did you find?” Rook asked.
“Lane issued the final operational-security clearance twelve hours before insertion.”
The clearance that declared the mission secure.
The mission that had been compromised.
“He knew,” Sarah said.
“Maybe,” Rook answered. “Or someone deceived him too.”
She looked at him sharply.
“You still think he could be innocent?”
“No. I think we need proof strong enough that no one can bury it.”
Fathom continued.
“There’s more. Lane’s authorization code appears in the deleted message archive.”
Rook’s pulse kicked.
“The warning Sarah sent?”
“Yes.”
Sarah went perfectly still.
Fathom’s voice hardened.
“Marcus Lane intercepted the warning and deleted it before it reached Rook.”
Silence fell across the harbor.
That was proof.
Marcus hadn’t merely failed to protect the mission.
He had deliberately prevented Rook from learning it was compromised.
Sarah closed her eyes.
When she opened them, the grief had turned to certainty.
“He sent you onto that mountain knowing it was a trap.”
Rook looked toward the road where Marcus had escaped.
“He made sure I never received the warning.”
It wasn’t proof Marcus had ordered the ambush.
But it proved he had allowed it to happen.
Six men were dead because he deleted one message.
Hammer.
Ghost.
Viking.
Tex.
Ridge.
Bishop.
Rook felt the mountain rise inside him.
Gunfire.
Smoke.
Blood beneath his hands.
Viking’s final command.
Find him.
Now Rook had.
“Fathom, lock down every record connecting Lane to that message.”
“Already done. Multiple backups.”
“Find his vehicle.”
“Traffic cameras lost it four miles north of the harbor.”
“Then search satellites, private security feeds, fuel stations—everything.”
“I’m on it.”
Sarah stared into the storm.
“He knows what happened to Wade.”
“We’ll make him tell us.”
Her gaze moved toward the captured mercenaries.
“What if they won’t talk?”
Cutter approached from the loading crane.
Snow covered his coat. A rifle rested against his shoulder.
“They’ll talk.”
Sarah studied him.
Cutter looked toward the damaged harbor gate, the disabled SUVs, and the men Reef and Maverick were securing.
“People who attack my harbor generally become very cooperative.”
Despite everything, Rook almost smiled.
Then Sarah’s expression changed.
She looked toward the warehouse.
Fear entered her eyes for the first time.
Not fear for herself.
“For God’s sake,” she whispered.
“What?”
She grabbed Rook’s arm.
“The attack was a diversion.”
Every instinct inside him sharpened.
“Diversion from what?”
“The cargo ship.”
Rook turned toward the inlet.
The captured evidence.
Madow’s records.
The documents connecting the network to the mountain.
While thirty-two mercenaries attacked Cutter’s harbor, the Northern Star sat inside the abandoned cannery inlet with only Cutter’s unloading crew guarding it.
Rook touched his radio.
“Fathom, contact the cannery.”
Static answered.
Then silence.
Fathom tried again.
“No response.”
Rook looked toward his team.
“Reef, Falcon, with me. Cutter, secure the prisoners and the harbor. Sniper, Maverick, protect headquarters. Cobra?—”
Cobra picked up his equipment bag.
“Already ready.”
Rook looked at Sarah.
“You’re staying here.”
“No.”
“Sarah.”
“The evidence on that ship is the reason they want me dead.”
Another alarm sounded from the warehouse.
Fathom’s voice filled every radio.
“Explosion at the cannery inlet.”
A dull flash lit the sky beyond the mountains.
Seconds later, thunder rolled across the harbor.
Rook stared toward the glow.
The attackers hadn’t come only for Sarah.
They had come to erase the evidence too.
The war had just changed again.