Page 37 of Huck Frasier
The team ran through details. Entry points. Signal timings. Emergency exfil. Reina stuttered through what she knew—locations of the storage rooms, which guards carried keys, which ones might talk instead of shoot.
By the time the sun dipped below the ridge, we were ready.
I walked Marley outside while Axel packed the gear and Lark briefed Reina one last time.
She leaned against the door frame, the wind catching her hair, her face painted in gold and shadows.
“I meant what I said,” I told her. “If it gets bad in there—you run.”
“And leave you?”
“If it’s the only way to save yourself? Yes.”
Her jaw flexed. “You’re asking me to be something I’m not going to do.”
“I’m asking you to stay alive.”
She stepped close. “You always carry everyone else’s weight. Let me carry yours for once.”
I reached out, brushed my knuckles across her cheek. “I love you, Marley. Reckless heart and all.”
She smiled. “I love you too, control-freak soldier man.”
I bent down and kissed her. Soft. Fierce. Final.
The kind of kiss that saidjust in case.
Because we both knew…
Not everyone walked away from nights like this.
26
Marley
Abandoned Warehouse – Tucson Outskirts – 10:47 PM
The desert was still. Too still.
No traffic. No wind. Just the buzz of heat rising off cracked pavement and the steady click of Reina’s trembling fingers against the bolt cutters.
“Almost there,” she whispered, sweat glistening at her hairline despite the night chill.
Lark stood behind her, gun drawn, eyes sharp. I was crouched beside them, my ribs aching, heart hammering. Every nerve was lit up.
Inside this warehouse—maybe thirty yards away—were kids. Real ones. Scared. Forgotten. And we were their only shot.
Click.
The lock gave.
Lark caught it before it hit the ground.
We slid the gate open just enough to slip through, hugging the shadows as we moved toward the back dock. Reina led us through a narrow access tunnel reeking of mold and bleach.
The building was half darkness, half glowing red from emergency exit lights. Somewhere in the distance, boots echoed on concrete. Voices barked in Spanish.
Time was running out.
