Page 47 of Make Them Pay

Render and I met up with the BRAVO operators and Knight, and now they’re all on their way into the facility.

It’s freezing out here and dead silent. I can even hear the soft drone of the ventilation system from this far away. Two hundred yards of empty ground sit between me and the chain-link fence. Past that are the two buildings above ground, the covered walkway connecting them, and the underground levels where the six people I’ve been fighting for these past eight days are still locked in cells, with no idea we’re about to open the doors.

I key the radio. “Overwatch is live. All channels green.”

Knight’s voice comes back first. “BRAVO in position. We’ll be at the fence line in ninety seconds.”

Diaz replies, “Eastern structure on approach. Two minutes to entry.”

Then Render says, “Stairwell’s clear. Holding for the mark.”

His voice in my ear is calm and professional. Controlled. You'd never guess it's the same voice that whispered my name against my neck just a couple of hours ago.

That version of him is gone for now, tucked safely behind the man who knows how to stay focused when lives are on the line. The man who crossed a storage unit in two strides and kissed me like he couldn't leave without doing it has given way to the operator.

I'm doing the same thing.

The woman sitting behind this terminal is the one who broke into security systems, unraveled an entire criminal network, and refused to quit no matter how impossible it looked. Not the woman who grabbed a man by the front of his shirt and kissed him back without a second thought.

Though I’m wearing his hoodie beneath my tactical jacket.

It still smells like him, and somehow that thought settles some part of me deep down to my core. Makes me feel brave.

One fifty-five. Five minutes left.

I run the system one final time. Everything comes back clean. It’s staged and waiting for my command. When Render reaches the corridor on the second underground level and the lock that should open for him, I’ll send the signal through the facility’s own network. The lock will open. The alarm won’t sound. Six minutes of silence while the team pulls six people out.

That’s the plan.

One fifty-eight. Two minutes.

I open the evidence system. The complete Goldenbell financial map is ready—every account, every transaction, every connection from the public face of the company to Serafina’s private fortune. It’s set to go out the moment Render’s signal registers inside the building. Federal agencies, regulatory bodies, and Rowan, the journalist, will all receive it at the same time.

One fifty-nine. One minute.

My heart races hard enough that any security system would flag it as unusual. My hands stay steady. My breathing stays controlled. The screen in front of me is a silent constellation of green lights and waiting triggers. Everything’s in position. Everything’s ready.

“Mark,” Knight says.

Two o’clock.

The breach begins.

I hear it through the radio before I hear it through the air. The sharp metallic snap of Knight’s bolt cutters on the fence, followed by the soft whisper of chain-link peeling back. BRAVO moves through the gap in pairs, boots soft on the frozen ground. Diaz and her team approach the eastern building from the north side, staying inside the camera blind spot Knight mapped earlier.

“Fence is clear,” Knight reports. “Perimeter secure. Two external guards neutralized. Non-lethal.”

Diaz: “Eastern structure entered. Ground floor clear. Stairwell access in sight.”

Render: “Moving to stairwell.”

His signal crosses into the building’s range. The evidence system registers the trigger.

I send the package.

The complete financial map begins streaming to six recipients at once. It moves through the hidden layers we built and out into the open where people with the authority to act will find it waiting in their inboxes.

Goldenbell has maybe twelve hours before the freeze orders hit.