Chapter 30 Hawk
Hawk
The cargo ramp slammed down with a metallic thud, and cold Midwestern air knifed through the cabin. The scent hit first—wet soil, cut grass, and something faintly chemical beneath it.
Trouble had a smell.
This place reeked of it.
Aaron was already off the ramp, rifle up, scanning the tree line that bordered the compound. Miles followed, equipment clutched to his chest. Boone and Logan flanked out, covering angles like the veterans they were.
Julia stepped up beside me, goggles down, stance steady. Always steady.
“Eyes open,” Aaron said. “We don’t know what Reese built in there.”
Or how many layers of hell he wired into this place.
I swept the perimeter. The facility sat low to the ground—steel, concrete, and a perimeter fence topped with smart razor coils. But the real wrongness wasn’t the structure.
It was the silence.
No guards.
No patrol drones.
No movement.
A facility this important shouldn’t have been quiet. It should’ve been a hornet’s nest.
“This isn’t right,” Boone muttered, tipping his cowboy hat back so he could see better. “Where’s the welcoming committee?”
“Either gone,” Logan said, “or watching us.”
Julia’s voice was low. “Reese wants us to come in.”
He did. He wanted us inside his maze. Wanted me inside it most of all.
“Miles,” Aaron called, “give me eyes.”
Miles set up a portable antenna and tapped his tablet. After a beat he frowned. “No external feeds. The cameras are dead—or were never meant to record what’s inside.”
“Meaning we walk in blind.” Logan clicked his safety off. “Great.”
“Entry point?” Aaron asked.
“North side,” Julia answered before Miles could. She pointed. “That access door. Internal power conduit runs behind it. Short hallway. Chokepoint, but manageable.”
I almost smiled. That’s what happened when you put a detective in a war zone—she saw structure in chaos.
“Julia’s right,” Miles confirmed. “That’s our cleanest entry.”
Aaron nodded once. “Hawk, take point. Julia, on your six.”
As if she’d be anywhere else.
We moved in formation across the grass, boots silent, weapons ready. The building loomed larger with every step—cold, patient, empty in a way that made the skin between my shoulder blades tighten.
Halfway there, the wind carried something new: the faint hum of powered machinery, buried deep, deeper than a place like this should run.
“Underground levels,” Miles murmured behind us. “More than one.”
“Reese always liked layers,” I said.
Julia glanced at me. “He liked secrets.”
She wasn’t wrong.
We reached the access door. Matte steel. No keypad. No biometric panel.
Only a small, palm-sized black square embedded in the frame.
Boone frowned. “What am I looking at?”
Miles cursed. “Adaptive ID reader. It’s not activated by codes—it recognizes patterns.”
Aaron stepped closer. “Patterns of what?”
Miles hesitated for too long. “…neural signatures. The system scans the brain wave imprint of whoever walks through. Top-tier clearance tech.”
“Meaning?” Julia asked.
Miles swallowed. “Meaning it will only open for someone it was programmed to recognize.”
The team went silent.
And then every head turned to me.
My stomach dropped.
“No,” I said flatly. “He didn’t.”
“He did,” Julia said quietly. “Hawk—he built it around you.”
Miles nodded slowly. “Reese didn’t just anticipate you coming. He engineered this entire facility so only you could walk him out of his own cage.”
The chill that swept through me wasn’t from the wind.
“He wants you inside,” Julia said. “Alone.”
“Not happening,” I snapped.
“Hawk.” Aaron’s voice was steady, but the weight behind it was steel. “If that door only reads you…”
I stepped back. “I’m not walking into his trap.”
Julia touched my arm. “We’re not asking you to walk in alone. We’re asking you to get us inside.”
I looked at her. She didn’t blink. Didn’t sway. Didn’t break.
“I don’t like this,” I whispered.
“You think I do?” she whispered back. “But we’re here. And he built this place around your mind. He wants you to step through that door because it’s the one thing he thinks he can control.”
She stepped closer.
“So let’s prove him wrong.”
For a moment, the world narrowed to her eyes—fierce, determined, soft where she’d never admit it.
Then I exhaled slowly, turned to the door, and placed my hand on the black square.
The metal warmed beneath my palm. A faint beep vibrated through the frame.
Then—
A soft chime.
A hiss of hydraulics.
The door cracked open, darkness bleeding out like breath from a sleeping beast.
Miles swallowed. “We’re in.”
I stared into the black, pulse steadying into something sharp and lethal.
“Stay close,” I said.
Julia stepped right behind me. “I told you—try to get rid of me.”
Together, we walked into the dark.
And the door sealed shut behind us.