Page 23 of Echo: Burn
Her jaw tightens. "I'm not hiding while you fight my battle."
"This isn't your battle. It's ours. You stay here where it's secure."
"Two contacts on the north ridge." She moves to the display, studying the thermal images. "They're moving too slow for a direct assault. Either they're recon, or they're a diversion."
"Which is exactly why I need you secure. If this is a diversion, the real attack comes from a different vector."
"And if they breach while you're down three guns because you've got people babysitting me in a bunker?" She meets my eyes. "I can shoot. You know I can. Your call, Commander."
The logic is sound. I hate that it's sound. I hate that she's right even more.
"Boss." Tommy's voice cuts through. "Contacts have stopped advancing. They're holding position at the tree line. Just... waiting."
That confirms it. This is a probe. They're testing to see what response they get. Count our numbers, gauge our capabilities, map our defensive positions. Standard recon doctrine.
Which means the real question is whether we respond at all or stay dark and let them wonder.
"Mercer, you're on the north overlook. Eyes on the cabin and those two contacts. Do not engage unless they breach the structure." I turn to Rourke. "East perimeter. If this is adiversion, they'll try coming from another angle. Make sure they don't."
"And me?" Stryker asks.
"West tunnel entrance. If they're smart enough to find the alternate access points, I want you there to greet them."
"Copy that." He moves out, grabbing extra magazines from the weapons locker.
I look at Willa, seeing the determination in her eyes. The same stubborn courage that made her save a dog when the smart play was euthanasia. The same refusal to be a victim that brought her here instead of running.
"You're with me," I say finally. "East overlook. Secondary overwatch position. You do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you. No improvisation. No heroics. Clear?"
"Crystal."
"And if I say run, you run. No argument. No negotiation. You get to the safe room and you lock that door behind you. Understood?"
"Understood." She says it like she means it, but I see the lie in her eyes. This woman won't run. Not anymore. She's done running.
That's what worries me.
We move through the base corridors to an observation point. A concealed position that gives clear sightlines to the cabin below without exposing our actual location. I key in the access code and we slip out into the night.
The cold hits immediately. Twenty degrees, maybe less. Wind drives snow horizontally. Visibility's down to maybe fifty meters.
"Stay low," I tell her. "Use the rocks for cover. If shooting starts, focus on your sector."
She nods, moving into position. Her stance is good, breathing controlled.
I settle in beside her, bringing my rifle up to scan the area around the cabin. The thermal overlay shows Mercer's position to the north. The two unknowns have stopped advancing. They're holding position at the tree line, watching the cabin.
"What are they waiting for?" Willa asks.
"Us to make a mistake." I adjust my position. "Standard recon doctrine. Probe the defenses, map the response, withdraw before contact."
"So we just wait?"
"We wait."
The minutes crawl past. Wind howls through the rocks. Snow accumulates on my shoulders, on the rifle, on Willa's dark hair. She doesn't complain. Doesn't shift position.
"Your father would be proud," I say.
