Page 76 of Iron Willed Warrior

I’d warned Luciana that she could be in trouble for continuing to speak out and demand answers. I should’ve known that her love for her daughter would never allow her to quit. I should’veprotectedher. An innocent woman who committed no crime except loving her family. Instead, she’d had no one to help her, and I would never forget the shame of that.

Brynn had training and experience that Luciana never did. Beautiful and tough as steel underneath. Yet I also knew thatif anything happened to Brynn, if I failed once again to stop Stillwater from harming a woman who’d needed my help, I would never be able to forgive myself.

“Listen,” Brynn said, tilting her head.

I heard it too. A mechanical whooshing sound.

We kept going as the sound got louder. It was coming from a rectangular block of concrete. One of the mysterious structures we’d seen on the satellite imagery. Brynn and I paused as we reached it. The concrete walls only reached as high as my chest, metal grating on the top, with hatches on the sides that I assumed were for maintenance. Brynn twisted the handle of a hatch and opened it.

The humming noise got louder, and I realized what this had to be. A ventilation shaft with a fan spinning inside the concrete housing, circulating air.

I pointed down at our feet, and Brynn nodded.

There was something below us. Underground.

Brynn signaled for us to continue along our previous path, heading toward Building B at the middle of the property. I dipped my chin in acknowledgment.

But as we neared the circle of light around Building B, we found we weren’t alone.

A guard stood in front of the building’s entrance in full tactical gear, an M4 carbine strapped across his front. He had a casual but alert stance. The man looked exactly like the Stillwater operatives I had faced before. Mercenaries.

And wouldn’t you know it? The door to the building opened, and Donovan Ryker strode out.

Brynn grabbed my arm and squeezed. I nodded. Now we knew for sure that Westwick and Masterson had visited here. This had to be a Stillwater facility. But why hadn’t Ryker returned with his boss to the resort?

We stayed still, watching from our crouched position in the shadows. Ryker didn’t pause, going over to a golf cart andgetting in. He zoomed off toward the facility’s exit. Whatever his purpose here, it appeared he was finished.

The door to Building B slammed shut, and the lock engaged with an audible thunk. The guard remained in place.

Brynn and I communicated silently. A brief but simple decision. Stay or go?

Stay. We both agreed. Now that we were here, we had to know more.

Building B had a single lens above a high-tech panel that controlled the lock. Maybe a fingerprint scanner. I hadn’t spotted any other surveillance elsewhere in the solar farm. Cameras, like a larger security force, would be a double-edged sword. More surveillance and manpower would prevent trespassers from coming near. People like Brynn and me. But the more cameras and personnel hanging around, the more chances Westwick’s secrets could leak.

If I were Westwick, I would allow only my most trusted people here. Which meant these guards were Stillwater loyalists. Probably handpicked by Donovan Ryker himself.

Getting past that guard wouldnotbe easy. And then getting inside Building B could be straight-up impossible. Unless we could somehow use the guard’s biometrics for access. This could get messy.

Brynn nudged me. Another golf cart was zooming up the central path from the direction of Building A, the property’s entrance. But it wasn’t Ryker returning. It was another Stillwater mercenary.

Brynn and I both tensed, going for our weapons as the newcomer veered off the path and parked the golf cart within spitting distance of our hiding place. He jumped out and headed for the door, lifting his hand at the standing guard.

They fist bumped. Their laughter carried. I eased my hand away from my gun, keeping my breaths normal.

Shift change.

More evidence that cameras weren’t watching, since I doubted these guys would be so laid back if Ryker or Westwick could check up on them. But nobody expected any trouble tonight. They were probably relieved that the boss had left the premises.

The guards were chatting, so I pressed my lips to Brynn’s ear. “We can divert the guard going off shift. Question him.”

“Affirmative. But we can’t let him raise alarms after. We’re ghosts tonight.”

I held her gaze. We both knew what that would mean. And hell, I was proud of her. She wasn’t thinking like an FBI agent anymore, worrying about jurisdiction and rules.

These were Stillwater mercenaries. Enemy combatants. That called for us to be just as merciless.

Quickly, we agreed on a plan. And then, we were on the move.