Page 64 of Rescued By Four Alphas
I lean closer, committing every inch of the schematic to memory. The stolen facility blueprints show five underground levels, with the lowest two marked as "medical research." That's where they're keeping Dahlia, where that bastard Reid is holding my pregnant mate against her will. The thought makes my wolf stir restlessly beneath my skin.
"The main shaft here," I tap the entrance point on the blueprint, "how wide is it?"
"Thirty-six inches across," Rivera replies. "It's tight, but manageable for someone your size. The secondary shafts narrow to twenty inches, and that's too small for most humans, but not for a shifted wolf if necessary."
Leo steps up beside me, his expression grimmer than I've ever seen it. "And the security systems?"
"Just like we've established, there are motion sensors, infrared cameras, and pressure plates near all junctions." Rivera's lieutenant, a wiry man named Vega, points to minor X marks on the blueprint. "But they're designed to keep people out, not in. If we create enough chaos at the front, they'll divert resources away from internal security."
We're gathered at an abandoned hunting cabin fifteen miles from Reid's facility, deep in the Montana wilderness, where the chances of surveillance are minimal. Rivera brought eight men, all former special forces turned mercenaries, plus enough firepower to start a small war. It should feel like overkill, but it doesn't.
"What about RF interference for the locks?" Evan asks. "And their biometric systems?"
"It's already handled." Vega holds up a small device. "This replicates any badge signal we encounter. And for the biometrics..." He hands Evan what looks like a silicone-tipped wand. "Press this against any scanner and it'll bypass the system."
I turn to Rivera. "So, what's your team's clear on the diversion plan?"
Rivera nods sharply. "We'll hit the transformer station first to create a blackout. The facility will switch to emergency generators. Thirty seconds later, we breach the main gate with explosives, and the guard's response will pull at least seventy percent of the security to the front entrance."
"That's our window," Leo says, tracing our planned route through the ventilation system. "Onyx and I will enter through this maintenance tunnel while Axl and Evan approach from the east ridge."
"The timing has to be perfect," I stress, looking at each man gathered around the Jeep. "Once we're inside, we have twenty minutes max to locate Dahlia, secure her, and get to the extraction point before their backup security protocols activate."
Axl, uncharacteristically serious, studies the monitor showing the facility's elevation profile. "What about these hatches here?" He points to several small squares marked along the eastern perimeter.
"Those are emergency evacuation points," Vega explains. "Sealed from the inside, unless there's a catastrophic event. We could try to breach them, but it would trigger alarms."
"No," Evan shakes his head. "We stick to the ventilation system. It's the only access point with minimal security coverage."
Rivera leans back, crossing his arms. "And once you have your Omega, what's your exit strategy?"
"The maintenance elevator shaft here," Leo indicates a narrow vertical passage. "It connects all levels directly to the surface. We can bypass the elevator itself and climb up the service ladder."
"And if she can't climb?" Rivera raises an eyebrow. "She's heavily pregnant, possibly sedated, or maybe even injured."
The thought of Dahlia’s hurt makes my vision blur with rage. I take a deep breath before answering. "That's why we bring this." I unstrap a harness from my pack. "It's a climbing rig modified to support her weight plus the babies. One of us carries her while the others provide cover."
"Remember," I tell the team during a brief break, "these aren't just security guards. They're government-sanctioned soldiers protecting classified research. They won't hesitate to use lethal force."
"Neither will we," Axl says darkly, checking the magazine on his sidearm for the third time.
"The priority is Dahlia," Evan reminds everyone. "Everything else is secondary. If something goes wrong, if someone gets hit, we don't stop. We don't go back. We get her out first."
No one argues. We all understand the stakes.
As night falls, Rivera's scout returns with updated intel on the facility's patrol patterns. We gather around the small display showing heat signatures moving along the perimeter fence.
"They've increased security in the past twelve hours," the scout reports. "And added two sniper positions here and here." He points to elevated platforms near the main gate. "And there's unusual activity at the loading dock. There are vehicles coming and going."
"What kind of vehicles?" Leo asks, suddenly alert.
"Medical transport. Like ambulances, but they're unmarked."
Evan and I exchange grim looks. This could only mean one thing.
"We need to be ready to move at first light," I say, checking my watch. "That gives us eight hours to finalize preparations."
Rivera nods to his lieutenant, who starts distributing specialized equipment to each team member. Night vision goggles, comms with encrypted channels, and breaching tools designed to work silently.
