Page 109 of The ARC Unit: Breach

By 9:17 that night, Haus Eberhardt no longer looked anything like the rehabilitation residence on its website. Hawk’s photographs from the west tree line had replaced the soft evening pictures Raven found online, and under a long-lens camera, the place lost most of its charm. The converted farmhouse sat behind a low stone wall, with two exterior cameras covering the rear yard and a second building farther back near a line of trees.

One of Morgenstern’s guards had spent almost forty minutes walking the same route between the structures with a rifle slung beneath his coat, while a dark van remained parked beside the outbuilding with its rear doors facing away from the road.

The main screen showed all of it at once while Raven and I rebuilt the target picture from the records we had found earlier. The twelve-bed license still claimed six residents. Utility use still said otherwise. A commercial laundry truck had visited that morning, and a Südweg van had arrived shortly after three in the afternoon before leaving less than twenty minutes later. Hawk had counted two visible guards and one man who kept appearing in an upstairs window without ever stepping outside.

German authorities had approved an emergency entry once the missing-person links and forged documents were put together, but the local units supporting us would hold farther back until Wolf called them forward. Too many uniforms on the surrounding roads would warn the people inside before ARC reached the property.

Raven enlarged the rear building. “No public floor plan on this one. Property records call it storage, but the power draw says somebody uses it every day.”

“Heat?”

“Not from where Hawk can sit without getting spotted.”

I pulled the old sale listing closer and compared the roofline to the current satellite image.

“There used to be a loading door on the east side. It’s gone now.”

“Walled over?”

“Looks like it. The smaller pedestrian door is still there.”

Bear leaned over the table from my left and studied the photograph. He had showered after training, but a faint line of dirt remained near one thumbnail as though the compound had finally managed to defeat even him.

“That frame is newer than the wall,” he said. “If they reinforced it, I’ll know when I get there. If they didn’t, we don’t need anything loud.”

Wolf stood at the head of the table and looked toward Hawk. “West ridge still clean?”

“Clean enough for the farmhouse and yard. I lose the east side of the rear structure for about twelve meters.”

“Jackal takes that side.”

Jackal nodded from the opposite end of the table.

Wolf pointed to the farmhouse service entrance. “Bear gets us through here. Viper runs point inside. I’m behind him. Jackal controls the yard and anyone who leaves the rear structure. Hawk owns the west and north sight lines. Raven keeps the feeds and comms together.”

Then his attention moved to me. “You stay with Raven until I call the site secure.”

I expected my own irritation to answer before I did. Instead I looked at the target photographs and thought about the locked rooms we already suspected were inside.

“Understood.”

Wolf watched me for a second longer than necessary before asking, “Understood?”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Would you prefer an argument?”

“No.”

“Then don’t ruin it.”

Jackal’s mouth twitched at the exchange, but he kept whatever comment had formed to himself and turned to his gear.

Bear set a compact plate carrier on the chair beside me. “You’re wearing this in the vehicle.”

I looked at it. “I’m not going through the door.”

“Bullets don’t check job descriptions.”

“Do you rehearse these?”