Page 82 of Rescuing Ally: Part 2

“Or prisoner movement,” Forest adds grimly.

“Or execution prep,” Walt states with brutal honesty, voicing what we’re all thinking.

The words hit like incoming artillery. Ally could be dying right now while we sit here planning training exercises and forty-eight-hour verification protocols.

“How confident are we in this reading?” Hank asks, his analytical brain still processing data while mine screams for immediate action.

“Completely confident,” Mitzy responds without hesitation. “This isn’t equipment malfunction or atmospheric interference. Something major is happening at those coordinates. The quantum activity suggests either massive data transfer or…” She pauses, checking her readings again. “Or they’re preparing to move the entire operation.”

“Relocate?” Blake asks.

“Yes,” Mitzy confirms. “If Malfor knows we’re coming, he might be evacuating the facility. Moving the hostages. Destroying evidence.”

The tactical situation becomes crystal clear, like det cord laid out for maximum destruction. We have a window of opportunity that’s closing fast. Maybe hours. Maybe minutes. Not the forty-eight hours we had planned for verification and preparation.

“We go tonight,” I state before anyone else can voice what we’re all thinking.

“Tonight?” Collins’s voice carries desperate hope mixed with fear. “Can we be ready?”

“We have to be,” I respond, my chest tightening with that familiar pre-explosion tension. “Because if we wait for perfect conditions, there might not be anyone left to rescue.”

Sam and Forest exchange looks. They feel the shift from deliberate planning to emergency response. CJ consults his tactical notes, already calculating revised timelines.Ethan’s team leader instincts engage, processing equipment requirements and coordination challenges.

“Cerberus won’t make it in time,” Sam observes, pulling out his secure communication device. “I’ll contact Mason, see if they can provide backup support from a secondary location.”

“We go without them if necessary,” I respond, because waiting for perfect backup could cost us everything. “Charlie team can handle primary and secondary objectives if we have to.”

Walt nods grimly. “Damn right we can.”

Blake’s already breaking down his weapon for transport. “Whatever’s happening to them, we end it tonight.”

“Equipment decontamination?” Rigel asks, always thinking about operational details.

“Mitzy’s portable EMP units,” CJ responds. “We’ll have to trust they work as advertised.”

The beach transforms into organized chaos as our carefully planned forty-eight-hour timeline compresses into six hours of rapid preparation. Equipment cases get sealed for transport back to Guardian HQ. Communication gear is disassembled and packed. The makeshift command center we built over days gets dismantled in minutes.

“Back to Guardian HQ for final prep,” Forest announces. “Cover mission goes active immediately. We need to look like we’re spinning up for routine training exercises.”

The gondola ride back up the cliff carries a different energy than our descent hours ago. Instead of relief at reaching a clean space where we can talk freely, we’re heading back into contaminated territory with emergency deployment pressing down on us like a live explosive.

But we don’t have a choice.

The real preparation must occur where we have access to our complete equipment buildouts and transportation resources.

Guardian HQ buzzes with controlled activity when we arrive. Alpha team runs building-clearing drills in the east wing, their movements sharp and aggressive. Bravo team practices communication protocols in the west training facility, voices crackling through radio static. Delta team conducts equipment familiarization exercises with new gear, weapons clicking and sliding as they test mechanisms.

To anyone watching—including Malfor’s surveillance network—it looks like routine training escalation across multiple teams.

But only Charlie team knows which training exercise is real.

“Full equipment decontamination in the armory,” CJ directs as we enter the main building. What he doesn’t say is that Mitzy’s EMP units are already set up and tested.

We know.

The armory has been transformed into a sterile processing zone. Mitzy’s portable electromagnetic pulse devices create clean corridors, allowing us to prep mission-specific gear without nanobot contamination. It’s not as thorough as the beach environment, but it’s functional for our immediate deployment needs.

“Assault kit plus demo charges,” I confirm, selecting weapons and explosives from the decontaminated equipment racks. My hands move with familiarity—rifle, sidearm, breaching charges, det cord, timers. Everything I need to blow holes in whatever stands between us and Ally and the other women.