Chapter 4 - The First Defensive
The facility was breached at 3:00 a.m. It wasn't a loud attack; it was a ghost-like infiltration. The power cut out, plunging the kennels into darkness.
"Ranger, position," Noah whispered. The dog slipped into the shadows, his hearing far superior to any thermal camera the intruders might have brought. Noah moved with a confidence that scared him; he was no longer the gray-haired man in the work jacket. He was a tactician.
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He heard the soft hiss of a suppressed round hitting a locker. He didn't fire back; he waited. When a figure rounded the corner, Noah used the darkness to his advantage. He didn't use a gun. He used the environment—a heavy training dummy, a tripwire rigged to a high-voltage kennel lock. The intruder went down with a crunch of breaking glass.
Outside, the perimeter alarms finally blared. The intruders weren't here to negotiate; they were here to burn the evidence. Noah realized then that Claire was the target, but he was the obstacle. He sent a text to Ortiz: Get her out. The back route to the docks. I’ll lead them the other way.
