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She slotted in behind Zak and Leo, Fox ghosting her six. In her earpiece, the second team advanced in measured breaths and muted footfalls.

Abe, Griff, Eli.Gage.

Her brother’s voice clipped through comms.“Approaching satellite tower.”Smooth, unhurried, the same tone he’d used to bully her through childhood obstacle courses. He’d folded into the Guardsmen’s rhythm as if he’d been part of them for years—even if his hackles rose whenever Leo drifted too close.

Kat forced the thought aside, sweeping her sector. Wind tugged at her sleeve.

Focus, Kat. Eyes on the approach. Keep Gage alive by getting this job done.

A grunt. Two muffled thwacks of a suppressed rifle—then silence.

“Two sentries down at the satellite tower,” Eli’s voice came through the static. “Moving in to take control of the remaining sentries.”

“Contact at the main entrance,” Abe reported. “Four tangos neutralized. You’re clear to breach.”

Leo’s hand touched her shoulder. The signal to move.

They approached a squat breeze-block building.

Up close, moss streaked the walls. Creeper plants dangled from every surface.

Leo signaled a halt.

Kat crouched behind a jut of rock, scanning the entrance. No movement inside. No sign of life. But that meant nothing. If this place was what they thought it was, it wouldn’t advertise its secrets on the doorstep.

A hand signal from Leo, and Fox pushed aside a hanging vine exposing the door. The door was worn, paint peeling, but the padlock gleamed.

Fox reached into his pack and pulled out bolt cutters. With a flex of his arms, the lock snapped clean off.

Leo motioned again, and Zak slipped forward, low and quick. He flattened against the frame and angled a mirror around the door’s edge.

“Clear.” He indicated for them to follow as he slipped inside.

Kat tracked Leo through the threshold, sweeping left.

The interior smelled of oil and old metal, the air stale and oddly dry despite the weather. Blank walls, a stripped-down table, a few rusting filing cabinets shoved to one side like afterthoughts.

The concrete was worn smooth. Recent traffic.

“Look at this,” Zak ran two fingers across the floor.

Scuff marks.

A faint semi-circle against the far wall—like something had moved there—a door hidden behind the seamless concrete? A lie disguised as emptiness.

Kat edged closer—her fingers found a seam. She pressed, and a section retracted exposing a digital keypad.

Zak was already kneeling beside her, pulling tools from a pouch on his belt. “Let’s see what they’re hiding.”

Two electrodes, clipped. His digital bypass scrolled through passcodes.

Beep, click, click.

Metal locks thudded open.

“Abracadabra.” He grinned as he boosted to his feet, weapon raised.

Kat held her breath, but the door didn’t open.