Chapter 16
MICAH
Kane answers his door in tactical pants and a t-shirt, his weapon already in hand.
Behind him, Willa appears from the bedroom, alert despite being pulled from sleep.
Neither asks questions. The priority flag on Sarah's tablet and our expressions after midnight tell them everything they need to know.
Down the hall, I can hear the faint sound of a child's laughter—Lucas, probably being convinced by Stryker to go back to bed with promises of training drills tomorrow.
The boy has no idea his quasi-stepfather is about to walk into a firefight, and Rachel will want to keep it that way until Stryker comes home safe.
"Operations center," Kane says, already moving. "Give us a few minutes."
Willa disappears back into the bedroom, emerging seconds later in her own tactical gear. She follows Kane without a word while Sarah and I head back toward the operations center.
Sarah's hand finds mine in the empty corridor. Brief contact, fingers threading through mine for maybe three steps before she pulls away. The touch grounds me, steadies the restlessness churning since I walked in and saw her ice-cold professional mask hiding everything we used to be.
Tonight shattered that mask. What we did in the analysis room changed the equation between us, and neither of us is pretending otherwise.
The operations center hums with low-level activity.
Tommy's already there, running security protocols on the latefeeds.
Odin lays at his feet, the Malinois's ears pricked and alert despite the late hour.
The dog has become part of Echo Base's security infrastructure, his presence adds an extra deterrent to anyone who might think about breaching the facility's perimeter.
Tommy glances up when we enter, takes one look at our faces, and straightens in his chair.
"Problem?"
"Cross sent priority intel," Sarah says, moving to her workstation. "Loading it now."
Kane and Willa arrive as Sarah projects Cross's encrypted files onto the main display—surveillance intercepts, signal analysis, communications metadata. Months of Committee intelligence operations spread across the screens.
"The Committee's running a SIGINT operation," Sarah says, her analyst voice crisp and controlled. "They've been intercepting our external communications for months. Not penetrating Echo Base directly, but monitoring our network of contacts."
Kane's jaw tightens. "How comprehensive?"
"Very." Sarah displays a network diagram showing Echo Ridge's external connections—dozens of nodes representing contacts, informants, suppliers.
Red lines indicating compromised communications snake through the network.
"They're not reading our internal comms, but every time we coordinate with external assets, they're listening. "
"Which means they know our operational tempo," I say, processing the implications. "Mission parameters. Target selection. Team composition."
"Everything except our location." Sarah highlights a separate analysis. "Reeve's been using the intercepted intelligence to narrow his search grid. Cross's data shows his current search pattern."
She overlays Reeve's movements on a map of Montana. The search area has contracted significantly—a circle spanning dozens of miles, centered disturbingly close to our actual position.
"We're inside that radius," Kane says. It's not a question.
"Yes." Tension radiates from her shoulders. "He hasn't identified Echo Base specifically, but he's close enough that visual reconnaissance could compromise us."
"How did Cross get this intelligence?" Willa asks, studying the intercept data.
"Reeve's team uses encrypted communications, but Cross has contacts inside Committee logistics networks.
" Sarah accesses supporting documentation.
"She's been tracking their supply movements, personnel deployments.
The SIGINT operation requires specialized equipment and technical expertise. That left a trail she could follow."
"Can we trust her intel?" Tommy asks.
I answer before Sarah can. "We know Cross hates the Committee. Webb killed her brother during a failed extraction. She's been bleeding them dry with intelligence leaks for years. If she says Reeve is running SIGINT intercepts, he is."
Kane nods, accepting my assessment. "What's our exposure?"
Sarah switches to a different analysis. "Committee has fragments from multiple sources.
Individually, each piece of information seems innocuous.
But assembled together, they create a pattern.
Our external contacts don't know they're compromising us because they think their communications are secure. "
"Compartmentalization failure," I say.
Sarah nods. "Exactly. A logistics contractor mentions delivery schedules.
An intelligence contact discusses operational tempo.
A technical consultant references equipment specifications.
" She highlights specific intercepts as she talks.
"None of them knows the full picture, but the Committee's assembling fragments into actionable intelligence. "
"How do we fix it?" Willa asks.
Sarah and I exchange a glance. We haven't discussed this, but we both know the answer. Years of working together, understanding how the other thinks, means we're already running parallel analysis.
"Restructure our entire external network," Sarah says. "Implement new compartmentalization protocols. Each contact only interfaces with Echo Ridge through isolated channels. No lateral communication between assets. Information flow becomes one-way instead of networked."
"That's a massive undertaking," Kane says.
"It's the only way to close the leak without burning valuable contacts.
" I move to the display, highlighting key nodes.
"Sarah handles the signals intelligence architecture.
I handle operational security protocols.
Tommy builds the technical implementation.
Together, we have the skill set to redesign the network without creating new vulnerabilities. "
"How long?"
Sarah runs calculations, her fingers moving across her tablet. "At least a few days. We're talking about rebuilding communication protocols for dozens of external assets, each requiring custom encryption and compartmentalization."
"We don't have that kind of time." Kane brings Reeve's search pattern back onto the screen.
"He's moving methodically. Visual reconnaissance of high-probability locations.
If he gets lucky and is able to zero in on Echo Base from the data or aerial survey, our location is compromised regardless of communication security. "
"Then we need a two-track approach," I say. "Sarah and I work the network restructure while we simultaneously plan to neutralize Reeve before he can complete his search."
Kane studies me for a long moment, measuring and assessing what I'm proposing—fieldwork, combat operations, the kind of mission that could put Echo Ridge's newest operative in the ground before I've fully integrated into the team.
"Reeve's not operating alone," Kane says finally. "Committee has assets supporting his search. Taking him down means engaging a team, not a single target."
"I've engaged worse odds." True enough. Years of deep cover in Committee networks taught me how they operate. Their tactics. Their vulnerabilities. "But this isn't a solo operation. We hit Reeve with a team. Fast, surgical, no survivors who've seen Echo Base's location."
"Planning that operation while restructuring the network means you and Sarah work around the clock," Willa points out. "That's not sustainable."
Sarah meets my eyes across the operations center. We crossed a line tonight. Rebuilt a foundation that's been cracked for years. Now we're committing to work that will test whether that foundation can actually hold.
"We can handle it," Sarah says.
Kane looks between us, and I see the moment he registers what's changed.
The careful professional distance Sarah and I have maintained since I arrived has evaporated.
We're standing too close. Moving in sync without conscious coordination.
The body language between us has shifted from avoidance to connection.
His expression doesn't change, but something in his stance relaxes slightly. "Get started on the network restructure. I'll coordinate with Dylan and Stryker on operation planning for Reeve. We hit both problems simultaneously."
"Everyone needs to know about the compromise," Kane says. "But the technical work falls to Sarah and Micah. They're the only ones with the combined expertise to pull this off."
Willa stands. "I'll set up a rotating schedule for meals and rest periods. You two are going to burn out if someone doesn't manage your logistics."
"Appreciated," Sarah says.
The briefing breaks up. Tommy heads off to run analysis on the intercept data from his own workstation. Willa heads toward medical to make her own preparations for the operation. Kane catches my arm as I move toward Sarah's workstation.
"You good for this?" His voice drops low enough that only I can hear.
"The network restructure or the operation against Reeve?"
"Both. Either. Sarah's been angry with you for years. Now you're working together under crisis conditions on a technical challenge that requires perfect coordination." Kane's gaze is steady. "If there's going to be a problem, I need to know now."
"There won't be a problem. Whatever was broken between Sarah and me, we're fixing it. The work comes first."
"That's not what I asked."
Fair enough. Kane's too experienced to accept surface answers when the team's survival depends on honest assessment.
"We're good," I say. "Better than we've been in years, actually. She needed to rage at me for leaving. I needed to let her. That's done now. What's left is the work and figuring out what we can be to each other going forward."