Page 75 of Close Protection

She dove for cover as Griffin managed to squeeze off a single shot before the tranquilizer began affecting his coordination. The bullet ricocheted off a container with a metallic whine, missing her by inches.

Julia emerged from cover as Griffin staggered, his weapon wavering as the compound worked through his system. She closed the distance rapidly, disarming him with a tactical move that respected his compromised state while ensuring he couldn't fire again.

"Where is she?" Julia demanded as Griffin sank to his knees, fighting the sedative's effects.

"Terminal…office," he managed, professional enough to recognize his situation. "Knox…moving her…soon."

The confirmation sent ice through Julia's veins. Her timeline was compressing—no time for the cautious approach she'd planned. She secured Griffin with the same restraints as his colleague, confirming his stable condition before moving toward the main terminal building.

The radio she'd confiscated from the first guard crackled again. "Maddox, report. What's your status?"

Julia calculated quickly. The missed response would trigger additional security measures. She had minutes at most before Knox realized his perimeter had been compromised.

Minutes to reach Ivy. Minutes to extract her from the heart of Knox's operation.

She abandoned the longer, safer approach route in favor of direct intervention. The main terminal building loomed ahead, its weathered concrete exterior unchanged since the shipyard's abandonment decades ago. Julia moved with controlled urgency, each step bringing her closer to Ivy while she scanned for threats in her periphery.

Inside that building, Vincent Knox was preparing to move the woman who had threatened his entire criminal enterprise. The woman who had somehow breached Julia's carefully constructed emotional walls. The woman she refused to lose.

Afternoon sunlight glinted off the broken windows of the terminal, the empty docks stretching behind it. Julia checked herweapons one final time, muscle memory taking precedence over conscious thought.

Protocol, procedure, regulation—all of it fell away before the singular purpose driving her forward. This wasn't Detective Julia Scott of the Phoenix Ridge Police Department anymore. This was Julia, moving through the world with one objective overriding all others.

Find Ivy. Bring her home.

Whatever it cost. Whatever lines needed crossing.

For the first time in her career, Julia Scott was operating purely on instinct rather than regulation. And her instincts were screaming that time was running out.

The radio in Julia's hand crackled with increasing urgency. "Griffin, report. Maddox, respond." The voice carried command authority, likely the senior security operative coordinating Knox's protection detail.

Julia silenced the device and resumed her approach to the terminal building. The perimeter was secure; now came the harder part. She moved through shadows, each step bringing her closer to the heart of Knox's temporary command center—and to Ivy.

The service entrance yielded to her picks with a soft click. Inside, the terminal's interior hit her senses—stale air carrying undertones of rust and saltwater, darkness punctuated by afternoon light through broken windows, and beneath it all, the faint chemical tang of CS gas residue.

She followed a corridor lit by emergency fixtures, her scanner confirming heat signatures ahead: three mobile, one stationary. Ivy hadn't been moved yet. The building's layout matched her mental map—main floor to the left, administrative section ahead where Knox would have established his operation.

Footsteps approached. Julia pressed against the wall, becoming part of the shadows as a security operative passed through an intersecting corridor. Unlike the perimeter guards, he wore formal tactical attire without an insignia.

Voices drifted toward her as she neared the central office—one cultured and precise, unmistakably Knox himself.

"...timeline has accelerated. Prepare for transport in fifteen minutes."

"The perimeter team isn't responding," a second voice replied. "Protocol suggests?—"

"I'm aware of protocol, Richards," Knox cut him off. "Secure the asset for transfer."

Their footsteps separated, one approaching Julia's position. She retreated into an alcove, allowing Knox to pass in his cream-colored suit, incongruous against the industrial decay. He showed no awareness of her presence.

Once clear, Julia advanced toward the central office. The corridor opened into a larger space transformed into an incongruous command center with designer furniture that belonged in downtown's financial district.

Through interior windows, she finally saw what she'd been seeking.

Ivy.

Secured to a chair, one hand free and working at a laptop while Richards stood nearby, weapon visible but not trained on her. Even from this distance, Julia could see the bruising along Ivy's jaw, the careful way she held herself that spoke of hidden injuries.

Cold fury threatened to overtake her before Julia forced herself back to professionalassessment. Ivy was alive, conscious, alert. The primary objective was confirmed.

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