Page 78 of Rescuing Ally: Part 2

“If the intelligence is solid,” CJ states, “we can move faster.”

I can’t hold it back any longer. “There’s something else.” All eyes turn to me. “We received a signal from the facility. Encrypted with Ally’s personal algorithm.”

The revelation lands like a thunderclap.

“What?” Collins steps forward, eyes wide. “You’re saying my daughter made contact?”

“We believe so,” Hank confirms, shooting me a look that’s half exasperation, half understanding. “The signal contains an SOS plus what appears to be security information about the facility.”

“She’s alive,” Collins whispers. “And she’s fighting.”

“This changes everything,” Sam says, his tactical mind already recalculating. “If we have someone on the inside?—”

“—someone who knows the facility and can provide real-time intelligence—” CJ continues.

“We can cut prep time significantly,” Hank finishes, nodding. “Forty-eight hours might work.”

The waves crash against rocks in eternal rhythm, indifferent to human struggles playing out on this narrow strip of clean beach.

Somewhere out there, beyond the horizon, Ally isn’t just waiting for rescue—she’s reaching out to us. Along with Jenna, Rebel, Mia, Malia, and Stitch. Six women whose only crime was loving men who attract danger like magnets attract metal.

The fire crackles and sparks, sending embers spiraling into the night like prayers made of light and heat.

For the first time since this nightmare began, those prayers might actually be answered.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Countdown

HANK

The beach has transformedinto something between a command center and a military camp. What started as our sanctuary—the only place we could speak freely—has become our base of operations.

Walt and Hank were pulled from their rotation at Collins’s facility, joining the rest of us as we regroup and strategize, the firelight flickering over faces too exhausted to pretend anymore.

Waterproof equipment cases dot the rocky shore. Portable communication arrays stretch between higher rocks above the tide line, their cables snaking across stone worn smooth by decades of Pacific surf. The salty air carries the metallic scent of electronics and the sharper tang of gun oil.

I kneel beside a makeshift table we’ve constructed using driftwood and flat stones, studying satellite imagery downloaded to secure tablets an hour ago.

The photographs show Malfor’s island in high resolution—every building, every guard tower, every potential approach vector mapped in detail.

“We’ve got a perfect tide window,” Gabe drops beside me, small rocks shifting under his knees as he spreads maritimenavigation data across our makeshift planning surface. “Low tide hits at 0347. Gives us about ninety minutes for a beach landing.”

The intelligence is better than anything we have a right to hope for. Guard rotation schedules. Communication array specifications. Even architectural blueprints of the main facility complex. Each piece of data builds a picture of an operation that’s not just possible—it’s achievable.

“What’s the perimeter defense situation?” Defensive capabilities always determine approach vectors.

“Pretty light,” Sam approaches our makeshift planning area, his boots crunching against shells and seaweed. “Automated systems focused on deep-water approaches. Minimal ground coverage on the north beach.”

Ethan moves to the center of our planning area, taking charge like he always does. “Alright, let’s break this down piece by piece. We’ve got good intel, but I want every angle covered.”

“Approach vectors?” Rigel asks, already thinking like the methodical operator he is.

“Three viable options,” I respond, pointing to different sections of the satellite imagery. “North beach during low tide, east cliff face for technical climbers, or direct assault on the main harbor.”

“North is our best bet,” Walt states, finally looking up from his weapon maintenance. His voice still carries that roughness, but there’s steel underneath it now. Purpose. “Minimal coverage, natural concealment from the rocks.”

“Agreed,” Blake adds, moving closer to study the photos. “East cliff gives a height advantage, but it’s a bottleneck if we need to extract fast.”