Page 81 of Rescuing Ally: Part 2

The deception makes tactical sense. Train for the skills we need while hiding the specific target. Let Malfor’s surveillance network see our preparation without revealing our true intentions.

“What’s the weather looking like?” Meteorological conditions can disrupt even the best-planned operations, and ocean weather changes rapidly.

“Clear skies. Light winds. Minimal wave action.” Mitzy looks up from her portable analysis station, where she’s been monitoring quantum signatures for signs of nanobot activity. “Perfect conditions for getting in there.”

The weather window aligns with everything else. We’ve got good intelligence, a sound tactical approach, and optimal timing. For the first time since Harrison’s betrayal, all the pieces are falling into place.

“How confident are we in this intel?” Ethan asks.

“Rock solid,” I answer without hesitation. “This intel came directly from Collins’s secure research facility. We’re not getting this secondhand or from questionable sources—we’re getting it straight from the inside of his operation.”

“Everything looks solid,” Sam responds, consulting data sheets that contain verification protocols.

“Facility seems well-suited for our approach,” I observe. The defensive weaknesses are exactly what we need to exploit for a successful infiltration.

“Remote location works in our favor,” CJ suggests. “Limited backup, restricted reinforcement capabilities.”

“And overconfidence,” Blake adds, reassembling his rifle with smooth efficiency. “Malfor thinks his island location makes him untouchable.”

Both explanations make tactical sense. Remote island locations can create complacency in defensive planning. Overconfidence is a documented weakness in high-profile targets who believe geography provides sufficient protection.

Collins approaches our planning area carrying an expensive thermal container. Steam rises from the cup, carrying scents of premium coffee and barely controlled anticipation. His silver hair is perfectly styled despite the beach environment, but dark circles under his eyes betray sleepless nights of paternal worry.

“Is the timeline locked in?” The question comes out sharp, eager. His free hand taps against his thigh—nervous energy that he’s trying to control.

“Insertion at 0300 hours tomorrow night,” Sam responds. “Gives us eighteen hours for intelligence verification plus training time. Facility penetration thirty minutes after insertion. Extraction window opens at 0400.”

Collins nods, anticipation radiating from him like heat from a fire. “So we’re ready to go tomorrow night.”

“After final verification,” Sam states. “Standard operational procedure. Confirm intelligence through secondary sources, then we execute.”

“How long for verification?” Collins asks.

“Twelve hours should be sufficient,” I estimate. “Satellite thermal imaging, communication intercepts, standard confirmation protocols.”

“Excellent,” Collins responds, satisfaction clear in his voice. “Finally, we’re moving forward.”

Nobody else speaks, but the energy around our planning area has shifted completely. Charlie team has run operations like this before. We know our roles, understand our objectives, and accept the risks involved in rescuing people we’d die to protect. But more than that, we trust each other. Trust that every manwill do his job, watch his brother’s back, and bring everyone home.

This is what Charlie team looks like when we’re united. Men who’ve bled together, fought together, and survived impossible odds together. Each of us brings different skills to the mission, but we’re all committed to the same outcome.

Bringing our women home.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Emergency Response

GABE

Mitzy’s alarmcuts through our mission planning like a fire alarm in a munitions depot. Everything stops. Every conversation dies. Every head snaps toward her analysis station where lights flash patterns I’ve never seen before.

“What kind of spike?” Sam barks, command authority cutting through sudden tension as he moves toward Mitzy’s equipment.

“Massive quantum entanglement activity,” Mitzy responds, fingers flying across her tablet interface. “The signature is coming directly from the target coordinates. Whatever’s happening there, it’s happening right now.”

I’m on my feet, moving toward her station with the rest of Charlie team. The equipment displays show wave patterns that look like seismic readings during an earthquake, except these measure quantum communications instead of ground movement.

“Could be facility preparation,” CJ suggests, his massive frame leaning over Mitzy’s shoulder to study the readouts.