Chapter 4
DYLAN
The window shatters inward and I'm moving before conscious thought kicks in.
Tackle Reagan to the floor. Cover her body with mine. Glass sprays across the room in a thousand glittering fragments. My hand finds my sidearm as gunfire erupts outside.
"Stay down." I keep my voice low, calm. Years of training override the adrenaline spike.
Reagan's breathing fast beneath me. Scared but not panicking. Good. Panic gets people killed.
The gunfire stops as suddenly as it started. Three controlled bursts. Professional spacing. Then silence.
My encrypted phone buzzes against my ribs. I pull it out, keep my body between Reagan and the window.
Kane's message is brief:
Perimeter secure. Stray shots from hunter nearby. Threat neutralized. Stand down.
I ease back. Not an attack. Just a hunter in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"False alarm." I help Reagan sit up. "Hunter got too close to the perimeter."
"Jesus Christ." Reagan's hands shake as she brushes glass from her hair. "You people are going to give me a heart attack."
"Better a false alarm than a real breach." I check the window. The glass needs replacing but the frame held. "This is what operational security looks like. We don't wait to confirm threats. We eliminate them."
"You eliminated a hunter?"
"We eliminated the threat. Hunter's fine.
Just learned not to wander near private property.
" I pull her away from the window, move us both to the interior wall where there's no line of sight from outside.
"Committee uses civilians as cover. Hunters, hikers, lost tourists.
Anyone who can get close enough to map our defenses. "
Reagan stares at me. "That's paranoid."
"That's survival." My phone buzzes again. This time it's Sarah.
Committee hit Ironwood Ridge twenty minutes ago. Three-man team searching Reagan's known associates. Clinic caught in crossfire. Three civilians wounded. Local PD responding. We need damage control NOW.
The message includes an address. Ironwood Ridge Family Medicine. Two hours south of our current position.
"We have a problem." I show Reagan the message.
Her face goes pale. "Ironwood Ridge. That's where Dr. Patterson works. He treated my father before he died. I visited him last month to ask about pharmaceutical supply chains."
"Did you mention your investigation?"
"I asked about chemical agents. Medical applications versus weapons research. He's an expert in toxicology." Reagan's voice tightens. "He didn't know anything about the Committee or my investigation. He was just helping me understand the science behind the chemical weapons program."
"And now he's wounded because the Committee thinks he knows where you are." I forward Sarah's message to Kane, then pull up a tactical map. "Willa needs to get to that clinic. Treat the wounded, establish a cover story, and make sure local PD doesn't connect this to federal operations."
"I should go with her."
"You should stay here where the Committee isn't actively searching." I look at her directly. "Dr. Patterson got hurt because of your investigation. The best way to honor that is to make sure his injuries weren't for nothing. Help us build a case that destroys the Committee's entire network."
Reagan nods.
Kane appears in the doorway. "Willa's already en route. Sarah's feeding local PD a cover story about gang violence spilling over from Billings. Tommy's scrubbing Reagan's digital footprint from every database he can access."
"How long until the Committee connects Ironwood Ridge to this location?"
"They won't. Reagan visited Patterson four weeks ago.
No digital trail linking her current location to his clinic.
As far as the Committee knows, she could be anywhere.
" Kane studies the broken window. "But we need to assume they're working through her entire contact list. Anyone she's talked to, met with, or emailed in the past six months is now a target. "
"How many people are we talking about?"
"Sarah's pulling records now. Estimate between twenty and thirty individuals with direct contact. Another fifty to seventy with indirect connections." Kane's expression doesn't change. "We can't protect them all."
Nobody speaks for a moment.
"We protect the ones we can and use the evidence to make sure any deaths mean something." I glance at Reagan. "But first we need to make sure you don't do anything stupid like trying to warn them."
"I need to tell them they're in danger."
"You need to let us handle this professionally." Kane's voice carries command authority. "Any contact you make with your sources puts them at higher risk. The Committee's monitoring their communications. Watching their movements. One message from you and they die faster."
"So I just let them die?"
"You help us build a case strong enough to bring down everyone involved." Kane moves to the tactical display, pulls up the Committee network. "Every hour you spend working this investigation is an hour closer to justice. Every piece of evidence you find is another nail in their coffins."
Reagan's hands clench into fists. Frustration and helplessness warring across her face. She wants to do something, anything, to protect the people she's put in danger. But there's nothing she can do except what Kane's asking.
"Fine. I'll work the evidence. But I want updates on everyone the Committee targets. Every name. Every casualty. I want to know exactly what my investigation costs."
"Agreed." Kane turns to me. "Keep her focused. Make sure she doesn't try any heroics. Tommy's running counter-surveillance but we have to assume the Committee's looking for digital signatures. Any communication Reagan sends could compromise this location."
"Understood."
Kane leaves. His boots echo down the hallway toward the command center.
Reagan stands there, glass still scattered around her feet, looking like she wants to punch something. Or someone. Probably me.
"This is what it costs." I keep my voice neutral. "People die. Investigations have casualties. You chose to dig into the Committee's operations knowing it would be dangerous. Started with Morrison's crimes, but the network is bigger than one man. Now you live with the consequences."
"Don't lecture me about consequences. I've been living with them for six months."
"Then you know this is part of the job." I start cleaning up the glass, giving her something concrete to focus on. "Committee escalates until they eliminate the threat or the threat eliminates them. We're past the point of warnings and intimidation. They're in full suppression mode now."
Reagan grabs a trash bag from the corner, starts helping with the cleanup. Her hands are steadier now.
"How do you live with it? Knowing people die because of what you do?"
"I don't. I just keep moving forward. Make sure their deaths accomplish something worth dying for."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer that matters." I dump glass into the bag. "You can torture yourself with guilt or you can channel it into destroying the people responsible. One option is self-indulgent. The other gets results."
Reagan studies me like I'm a puzzle she's trying to solve. "You really are the monster they say you are."
"Yes. But I'm your monster now. And that means keeping you alive long enough to make Webb and the Committee pay for what Morrison did and what they are doing."
The hours crawl past. Reagan works the evidence with single-minded focus. I monitor her progress, make sure she doesn't access anything that compromises operational security. Kane checks in periodically with updates from Willa.
Dr. Patterson is stable. Gunshot wound to the shoulder. He'll survive.
The other two civilians are less lucky. One dead on scene. The other critical condition.
Reagan takes the news without visible reaction. Just adds the names to a document she's keeping. A casualty list. Everyone who's died because she asked questions the Committee wanted buried.
Hours later, I'm exhausted. Reagan should be too but she's still at the terminal, cross-referencing financial records against personnel files. Relentless.
I should let her work. Should get some sleep while Mercer has overwatch. But her focus is too intense. Obsessive.
I pull up the system logs. Check what files she's been accessing.
The logs show deletions.
She's not building the case anymore. She's deleting backups.
I'm across the room before I fully process what I'm seeing. Close the terminal window she's got open. Lock the system.
"What are you doing?"
Reagan spins to face me. Guilty. Defensive. "What I should have done months ago."
"You're destroying evidence."
"I'm destroying the digital trail that's getting people killed.
" Her voice is flat. Hard. "Every file I accessed tonight has left traces.
Tommy can scrub databases but he can't erase everything.
The Committee's following my investigation like breadcrumbs.
Every source I contacted, every document I pulled, it all points back to the people who helped me. "
"So you're going to delete the evidence that proves the Committee's crimes?"
"I'm going to delete the evidence that proves how I found it." Reagan tries to access the terminal again. I block her. "Move."
"No."
"Dylan, move. I'm not letting anyone else die because I was too stubborn to quit."
"Destroying evidence doesn't save them." I keep my voice level. Calm. "The Committee already knows what you found. Already knows who helped you. Deleting files now just makes their deaths meaningless."
"At least it stops the trail. Prevents the Committee from using my investigation to find more targets."
"They don't need your investigation to find targets.
They have the same databases you accessed.
The same financial records. The same personnel files.
" I pull her away from the terminal. "You're not protecting anyone by destroying evidence.
You're just making it easier for Webb to get away with murder. "