Page 22 of Echo: Burn
"Again," Stryker commands. "And this time, let's work on speed."
I raise the rifle. The thunder of gunfire fills the range, and for the first time in years, my hands don't shake. Not even a little.
6
KANE
The alarm cuts through the darkness at 2347 hours.
Not the full klaxon that means breach, but the low pulse that means motion detected at the cabin perimeter. Could be elk. Could be a mountain lion. Could be Committee operatives checking out the hermit's place at the base of the ridge.
I'm awake and armed before the second pulse sounds. The HK416 comes off the rack. Magazine seated. Suppressor checked by touch. Old habits that keep you breathing.
The base operations center is already lit when I arrive. Tommy's at the main console, fingers flying across three keyboards simultaneously. Mercer's pulling on a tactical vest. Rourke's checking his sidearm with the methodical precision of a man who's done this a thousand times.
"Sitrep," I say.
"Motion sensor at your cabin triggered." Tommy doesn't look up. "Two contacts approaching from the north. Moving slow and deliberate. Spacing's wrong. Too tactical."
"Show me."
The thermal feed loads. Two heat signatures moving through the trees toward the cabin at the base of the ridge. They're usingcover professionally, advancing in bounds. One moves while the other provides overwatch.
"Range?" I ask.
"Three hundred meters from the cabin. They're sweeping the area, looking for something."
I study the movement pattern. Professional. Disciplined. But something feels off. They're coming from the north, which makes sense if they tracked Willa's truck from the highway ambush. But the spacing's wider than standard two-man recon. They're investigating the cabin—my cover position—looking for proof that the hermit who supposedly lives there is something more.
"Could be a probe," Stryker says from the doorway, already in full kit. "Testing to see if anyone's home. Or if that hermit story holds up."
"Or bait." Rourke chambers a round. "Draw us out, hit us when we're exposed."
Both good theories. Both potentially fatal if we guess wrong. But they don't know about Echo Base. They're sniffing around my cover, not the actual operation.
"Where's the vet?" I ask.
"Still training. Been at it for four hours straight."
Four hours. Most civilians would've quit after one.
"Get her to the safe room with Sarah and Khalid."
"She's not going to like that."
"I don't care what she likes. This is a tactical situation."
The words taste wrong. She proved herself when the Committee sent teams to track her down. Held her position, took out two men without hesitation. But that doesn't change the fact that she's not trained for this.
"I'll inform her of your decision," a voice says from behind me.
I don't need to turn to know it's her. Don't need to see her face to hear the steel in those words.
"Dr. Hart...”
"I heard the alarm. I'm ready." She moves into the light, and I see she's already wearing a tactical vest. Probably Stryker's spare from the size. The M4 in her hands is held with proper discipline, finger off the trigger, muzzle pointed at a safe angle. "Where do you need me?"
"In the safe room. With Sarah and Khalid."
