Page 67 of Beyond Redemption

“Youhope. You don’t know.”

“Honey, hear me when I say this. In no scenario will the Carlisis overwhelm a militia compound of this size and capability. This isn’t just the best place for us to keep the kids safe; it’s also the best place for us to wipe them out once and for all. What Ihopeis that they knock on Marcel’s door looking for a fight. They’ll be pink mist by lunch.”

She gauged my expression for a moment, for one tiny chink in my armor, and when she found no sign of doubt, she nodded once, grabbed the knife again and turned Stella’s plate sideways, slicing the banana into smaller chunks as if organizing breakfast and incoming risk belonged in the same category. With Liis, sometimes they did.

“Did he raise alert status?” she asked, trying to casually slide in another question without notice.

“Not camp wide. They’re ready, but he doesn’t want rumors moving faster than facts. The compound still has to function with the day-to-day. He’s just… not ruling it out.”

“But they’re here.”

“I think so.”

“So, it’ll happen soon.”

I tilted my head slightly, watching my wife with sympathy. Liis didn’t spook. She’d walked into worse without blinking, held her ground when other agents folded. Nerves weren’t something I’d ever seen affect her. But this was different. This time, it wasn’t just us on the line.

My hand closed over hers, stilling the knife before it could finish another cut. I eased it from her grip and set it aside, then pulled her in—firm, close, and without asking. “I’d let you stab me with this knife before I’d let anything happen to our little girl. You know that, right?”

“What I know is that horrible things happen every day. Even to the most prepared,” she said, her voice muffled against my shirt.

“Not to us. And not today.”

Her eyes flicked toward the back room, then back to me. “I put a bugout bag by the door, but I’d feel better if Marcel allowed us our sidearms.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“Seconds will count. We can’t waste time retrieving our Glocks, making sure they’re loaded and ready.”

“Understood.”

She squeezed me. “Mothers have lifted entire cars off their children. I can save her from a few dozen mafia goons.”

I gently pinched her chin between my thumb and finger, guiding her gaze to mine. “You’re not doing this alone.”

She stepped back and nodded, wiping her nose with the back of her hand and then perching her hands on her hips, more to reassure herself than me. “We’ll keep her safe. We’ll keep them all safe.”

“You’re damn right we will,” I said with a wink. It earned me a ghost of a smile from my wife.

A small sound came from the back room, a sleepy rustle against sheets, then silence again. Both of us turned our heads and waited. When nothing followed, Liis lowered her voice.

“If they breach the perimeter, we don’t wait for instruction. We move.”

“Roger that,” I answered.

“If you’re not here when it happens, I’ll take her myself then get into position.”

“Yes, Liis. We’ve got a plan. We’ll stick to it. She’ll be safe under a quarter mile of sand and concrete behind a reinforced blast door. Nothing’s getting in there.”

She held my gaze another beat, making sure I meant it, making sure I wasn’t about to hedge or run contingencies, seeing only certainty that we’d walk out of this alive.

She nodded once more, setting the plate on Stella’s highchair tray. “These bastards better have brought a priest.”

“There she is,” I said, kissing her cheek.

I picked up the carafe and refreshed my coffee, taking another sip. Liis opened one of the cabinets, pulling down a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread. I knew her enough to know in those few seconds, she was already ten steps ahead, already inside the plan, turning it over, stripping it to parts, looking for failure points. It was one of the first things I’d respected about her, long before I knew what to do with anything I felt.

I put down my coffee and stared past the thin curtains over the sink, wincing at the sun shining through. Dust moved in the beam, slow and aimless. Outside, voices passed the house andfaded, the brief crackle of a radio check, then silence. The whole place felt like it was inhaling and holding its breath.