Page 95 of Beyond Redemption

“That’s where it gets complicated,” I said. “Volume alone is going to trigger federal involvement. There’s just no way around that. They’ll lock the scene down, secure weapons, separate everyone, start taking statements. Run ballistics, IDs, the whole process.”

Naomi exhaled slowly. “My guys aren’t going to like that any better than they’ll like being stripped of their weapons when the government rolls in. It’s against everything we stand for—and against.”

“It’s just a means to an end, Naomi,” Liis said. “Make them understand. The better they cooperate, the quicker it will go. Just don’t veer away from what we’ve recommended.”

“What about detainment?” Naomi asked.

“Possible,” I said. “Standard, but also temporary. No one walks away from something like this without questions. But just remember, and tell your people, it doesn’t mean charges.”

She studied us for a second. “And you?”

“Our presence works to your benefit,” Liis said. “We were already working the Carlisi case. We’ve been targeted by them before. This doesn’t come in as a random militia incident; it translates as being tied to an active federal investigation. That gives us a lane to frame what happened before someone else does.”

“Frame?” she repeated.

“Control the narrative early,” I said. “This was a targeted attack. Organized. We were on site. You assisted in defense. That’s the version that sticks if we get it in first.”

Naomi’s jaw set, not tense but deep in thought. “And if someone decides they don’t like that version?”

“They’ll look for holes, of course,” I said. “Types of weapons used, how organized your people are, how this place is set up. They’ll ask if you were ready for this.”

“We were ready to defend ourselves. It’s our entire reason for existence,” she said.

“That’s the answer,” I said. “And it’s the only answer.”

She held my gaze. “So, you think we’re in the clear?”

“I think you’re on solid ground,” I said. “You were attacked. You responded. You didn’t escalate past that. You’ve had run-ins with federal government before, and not to their credit,” I said gesturing to Zeke. “All of that with federal agents on-site points to the high likelihood of somewhat of a happy ending.”

“Is there a Plan B if they try to make an example of us?” she asked.

I waited a beat, carefully choosing my words. “The rest is noise. Scrutiny. Questions. Headlines. Opinions. Congress getting face time on the networks. People will want to understand this; they may even demand consequences. It’ll take time, it’ll be uncomfortable. But it’s a process, not a verdict. Your best course of action is to do what you’ve always done—lay low. No interviews, no media access to the compound.”

Naomi nodded once, slower this time. “So, you’re saying the ABRP won’t be effectively dismantled at dawn.”

“No,” I said. “It’s the beginning of a long process of the agencies sorting this out.”

She glanced toward the hall. “It’ll be a lesson in patience for the General.”

“I’ll walk him through it,” I said.

Naomi tested her balance before pushing to her feet, then gave a small, tired nod. “We’ll handle it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to hit the rack for a few hours. I’m responsible for planning the service for the men and women we lost.” Her eyes glossed over for a moment. “A send-off well earned.”

As she turned away, she allowed Zeke to help—something she wouldn’t have tolerated an hour ago—leaning into him as he murmured something low before kissing her cheek.

“Naomi?” I said, standing and waiting for her to face me.

She raised her eyebrows, the most she could manage with her adrenaline spent and her body screaming for rest so it could heal.

“I’m sorry to keep you, but you lost good people tonight—your people—to protect my family. I don’t know if saying thank you means anything after that… but thank you.”

Zeke offered an appreciative grin. One corner of Naomi’s mouth turned up, a single tear falling down her cheek. “We did. But they died doing what they loved. And we’re going to honor them for it.” She held my gaze for a second longer, then turned with Zeke to slowly make their way home.

After that, it was quiet again, each tick of the clock above us thinning our patience, the silence between us the only way to keep our fears and frustrations muzzled. After another half hour, there was something happening beyond the wall, movement and voices, then a moment later the waiting room doors opened.

Dr. Frances stepped out, pulling off his surgical cap. “Bodhi is in recovery,” he said, tension absent from his expression.

Olive was on her feet before he finished. “How is he?”