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The ambush should have worked. Would have worked against a standard operative. But as the man dove for cover, Julia caught the flash of recognition in his eyes—not surprise at the attack, but familiarity with the tactic.

Ex-law enforcement. Specifically, PD training.

The realization hit Julia the same moment the operative recovered, bringing his weapon to bear with practiced precision. Time compressed to crystalline clarity. Julia had a choice: maintain her position with superior cover or break concealment to draw fire away from where Ivy waited.

No choice at all.

She launched herself sideways, exposing her position while firing again to force the operative's attention. He tracked her movement, weapon swinging in a controlled arc.

Behind him, Ivy rose like a vengeful spirit, branch raised high.

The branch connected with a sickening crack. The operative crumpled forward, weapon discharging harmlessly into the forest floor. Before he could recover, Julia was on him, driving her knee into his lower back while securing his weapon.

"Zip ties. Left pocket," she directed Ivy, who immediately searched her pack and produced the restraints.

Julia bound the operative's wrists, then rolled him over. Blood trickled from a gash along his hairline where Ivy's improvised weapon had connected. The man's eyes remained unfocused, consciousness wavering.

"Who sent you?" Julia demanded, voice hard. "Knox directly or someone inside the department?"

The operative's eyes found focus for a moment. A smile, cold and professional, crossed his face. "You know how this works, Scott. We don't talk."

Julia went still. He knew her name. Not just her position, not just her mission. Her specifically.

"How—?"

"You think Knox doesn't have a file on every detective in Phoenix Ridge?" The man's laugh was more a cough, wet and strained. "Especially the ones who might become problems. The great Julia Scott. Third-generation cop. Perfect record. Too perfect. Too clean. Makes people nervous."

Julia kept her expression neutral, but her mind raced. The operative wasn't just trained like PRPD; he knew details about her. Personal details. The leak extended further than they'd realized.

"We need to move," Ivy said, scanning the forest with newly heightened awareness. "He won't be alone."

The operative's smile widened. "Smart lady. Smarter than your watchdog here."

Julia processed standard tactical options, discarding each as rapidly as it formed. With an unknown number of hostiles in pursuit and a compromised department, standard procedure was a luxury they couldn't afford.

"We leave him," she decided. "Tied but alive."

Ivy raised an eyebrow. "He'll just tell them which way we went."

"That's why we're not going the way heexpects." Julia searched the operative quickly, retrieving a radio, a spare magazine, and a tactical knife. "He's hunting us based on department protocols—standard extraction routes, known safe houses. We change the playbook."

She pocketed the equipment and rose, scanning their surroundings. "Northeast, double-time. The Jeep is a half-mile ahead."

They left the operative secured to a tree trunk, a basic field dressing applied to his head wound. Enough to ensure survival, not enough to speed recovery. Julia set a brutal pace through the forest, no longer concerned with stealth now that their presence was confirmed. Speed became the priority.

The operative's revelation had shifted her tactical calculation. Not just their location, but her identity had been compromised. Knox's people weren't just hunting a witness; they were hunting Julia Scott specifically.

"You're thinking too loud," Ivy said as they pushed through a dense section of underbrush. "What did he mean? About making people nervous?"

"Later," Julia replied. "Focus on terrain."

They broke through the tree line onto anovergrown logging road—little more than twin tire ruts half-reclaimed by nature. Julia oriented herself, checked her watch, then turned left.

Fifty yards ahead, partially concealed beneath fallen branches and a camouflage tarp, the outline of a vehicle was barely visible. Julia approached cautiously, scanning for signs of tampering before pulling away the covering to reveal an older-model Jeep Wrangler.

"Morgan arranged this?" Ivy asked, breathing hard from their rapid movement through difficult terrain.

"No. Personal asset." Julia checked beneath the vehicle and under the hood before retrieving a key from a magnetic box hidden in the wheel well. "Off department books. Registered to a shell company I established five years ago."