Chapter 4 #3
"Victim services doing wellness checks. Same lie he tried on me." Helena closes the footage. "Zeke ran it past the feds. There are no wellness checks scheduled. This man isn't legitimate federal."
I suspected as much. Network operative canvassing town, willing to show his face repeatedly. Either desperate or confident enough to believe they can extract before law enforcement responds.
"When was this?"
"Couple days back." Helena's watching me carefully. "He's not being subtle. That worries me."
"It should worry you. It means they're either desperate to confirm her location or confident they can move on her before we're ready. Why did it take two days to tell me?"
“I wanted to be sure I wasn’t raising any false alarms—”
I rewind the footage again. The man leaves. Same measured movement. Same situational awareness. But there's something else. Right before he turns away from Sadie, his eyes track around. Quick glance. Systematic.
"Not false alarms. Watch this," I say. Helena leans closer. I point to the screen as his gaze moves. "Could be nothing. Could be assessing the buildings. Counting windows. Exits. Someone with training doing reconnaissance."
Helena goes still. "You think—"
"I think he moves like someone who's done this before. And people who move like that don't just look up at the sky. They assess." I close the footage. "Maybe I'm reading too much into body language. But combined with everything else? He's not just asking questions."
"Zeke's already increased patrols. Rhys is coordinating with his department. But Eli, if they're willing to canvas businesses in broad daylight, they're planning something."
"Then we make sure we're ready when they make their move."
Helena hesitates. Then reaches into her desk, pulls out something I recognize. Handgun. Glock 19. She sets it on the desk between us.
"I'm armed," she says quietly. "Zeke upgraded my clinic security after a trafficking witness was targeted here last year. I know how to use this and I will if necessary."
Her tone's matter-of-fact. No bravado. Just capability and willingness clearly stated.
"Good. Network comes at you, don't hesitate."
"I won't." She slides the weapon back into the drawer. "But they're not coming for me. They're coming for Traci. Which means they're coming for you."
"Let them try."
They won't like what they find. I've spent the time planning for every contingency.
Every approach vector. Every possible assault pattern.
They come for Traci, they're walking into a kill zone designed by someone who's been running these scenarios since before most of them learned which end of a gun to point.
"Eli." She stops me before I can leave. "Traci's making real progress. The stability you're providing is working. Don't let the threat change that. She needs consistency right now more than anything."
"She needs to stay alive."
"She needs both. And the only way she gets both is if you hold the line without showing her how scared you are."
"I'm not scared."
Helena's look says she knows that's not entirely true.
"You're tactical enough to recognize the threat.
That's smart. But Traci picks up on tension.
If you start treating every shadow like an enemy, she'll regress.
Keep the routine. Keep the stability. Handle the threat without making it her problem. "
What Helena's really saying: don't let Traci see the predator. She's seen enough violence. Doesn't need to see mine until it's absolutely necessary.
"Understood," I say.
We head back to the waiting room. Traci's exactly where we left her, backpack on lap, watching the door. She stands when she sees us.
"Ready?" I ask.
She nods.
The drive home feels different. Can't shake the surveillance footage. That man wasn't just asking questions—he was mapping the town. That level of confidence suggests either backup close by or timeline pressure.
I vary the route. Take the long way, double back once, check mirrors at every turn. Sedan three cars back stays consistent for a few blocks, then turns off. Probably nothing. Probably civilian traffic.
I log it anyway. Silver sedan. Couldn't get plates from this angle.
Traci notices the different route. Glances at me, question in her eyes, but doesn't pull out her notebook. Accepts it without demanding explanation.
I pass a blue pickup parked near the intersection. Driver's looking at his phone. Texting, or coordinating. I note the vehicle, keep moving.
Every car becomes a potential threat. Every parked vehicle a possible staging point. Hypervigilance ramping up exactly like Helena warned against. But the alternative is missing something that gets us killed.
I need to find the balance. Stay alert without broadcasting tension.
When we pull into the cabin's driveway, I do one more mirror check. Road behind us empty. Forest quiet. Perimeter undisturbed.
Traci doesn't immediately get out. She sits there looking at the structure.
Then she pulls out her notebook. Writes. Shows me.
Are we really safe here?
The question she’s asked before. But this time there's something different underneath. Not just asking if the location is secure. Asking if I'm capable of keeping her safe.
"Yeah," I tell her. "We're safe. And if that changes, I'll know before they get close."
She studies my face. Looking for the lie. Whatever she finds must be sufficient because she finally gets out of the truck.
Inside, she doesn't go straight to the window. She pulls out her notebook, sits at the kitchen table.
Writes something. Slides it across to me.
Thank you for coming when they called you. I know you didn't have to.
I read it twice. The gratitude cuts deeper than it should.
"You're family," I tell her. "End of story."
A failed mission was the reason I walked away from Delta Force. I walked away to learn how to be something other than a weapon. And now I'm remembering exactly how effective that weapon can be when properly motivated.
She doesn't write anything else. Just sits there while I make lunch. And when I put a sandwich in front of her, she actually eats the whole thing.
Progress continues.
She disappears into her book. Outside, the perimeter is clear for now.
For now.
The network's out there asking questions. Mapping buildings. Running reconnaissance in broad daylight.
Let them come. They think they're hunting a traumatized kid with one washed-up operative standing in their way.
They have no idea what's waiting.