Page 38 of Protecting Her

"Now I realize you'd never forgive me for leaving you behind." That ghost of a smile returned. "And I'd never forgive myself."

Through the feeds, Carmen tracked the assault teams' final preparations. They were deploying shaped charges now—military-grade explosives designed to breach reinforced positions. The same kind she'd seen used in Sudan when corporate mercenaries destroyed a village that refused to sell their land.

"We'll have one chance," she said, studying the pattern of charges. "The moment they detonate, before the dust settles. They'll expect us to be disoriented."

Jude nodded, already understanding. "But you've been through this before."

"Diplomatic protection isn't always about negotiation." Carmen checked the weapon Jude offered her with practiced ease. "Sometimes it's about surviving long enough to expose the truth."

Another camera died, then another. Their world shrank further and further as each security video feed went dark. Soon they would be operating blind, relying on instinct and experience to guide them through whatever came next.

"The corporate files," Carmen said suddenly. "The ones proving their connection to Nuevo Amanecer. I encrypted them on a secure server. If anything happens?—"

"Nothing's happening." Jude's voice carried clear conviction. "Nothing except us exposing every one of them."

The promise hung between them as the final security feed flickered static then winked out. In the darkness, Carmen felt Jude shift closer, their shoulders brushing with familiar comfort. Outside, their enemies prepared for the final assault. Inside, two women who'd dedicated their lives to different forms of protection found strength in each other.

A new explosion shook the walls, the biggest yet. Dust rained from the panic room’s ceiling as the safe house’s support structures groaned in protest. Their time had run out. They needed to make a move.

"Ready?" Jude asked, offering her hand.

Carmen took it, feeling calluses earned through years of combat press against her palm. "Always."

They moved toward the panic room door, positioning themselves for what would come next. In the darkness, Carmen felt nothing but certainty. They were survivors who'd faced death before and had emerged stronger.

This time would be no different.

Because this time, they had something worth any risk.

9

JUDE

The panic room's hydraulic door sealed behind Jude with a hiss. Emergency lighting bathed the safe house corridors in cold blue shadows as she moved through familiar space that had turned hostile. She positioned charges at precise intervals, each one calculated to create maximum confusion while minimizing structural damage.

Her body operated on pure muscle memory, but her mind kept circling back to Carmen's voice:I love you. Three words that should have complicated everything but instead crystallized her purpose into perfect clarity. She wasn't just protecting a diplomat anymore. She was fighting for their future.

The first attacker appeared at the corridor junction, moving with the distinctive grace of special operations forces training. Jude recognized the stance before he registered her presence. She closed distance fast, redirecting his weapon before he could fire. His knife appeared exactly where training said it would, but she was already inside his guard. A precise strike collapsed his throat. Quiet, efficient, final.

She caught his body before it hit the floor, easing him down silently. His gear confirmed her suspicions: American-made, high-end, the kind only certain contractors could access. She appropriated his radio, already tuned to their command frequency.

"North sector clear," a voice crackled through the earpiece. "Moving to breach point Charlie."

Jude placed another charge, mentally mapping enemy positions through their radio chatter. They were good—coordinated, disciplined, thorough. But she had something they didn't: intimate knowledge of this building's secrets and absolute certainty in what she was fighting for.

Two more hostiles swept the intersecting corridor. She let them pass, noting their formation. Former Delta Force, maybe Rangers. Their movements carried that particular precision born from years of joint operations. She waited until they cleared the corner before triggering the first charge.

The explosion wasn't meant to kill. It sent dust and debris cascading through the hallway, disrupting their practiced coordination. She moved through the chaos like smoke, neutralizing the first operator before he could orient himself. His partner managed to squeeze off one shot—silenced, professional—but she was already gone, leaving unconscious bodies in her wake.

More radio chatter confirmed her plan was working. The teams were shifting positions and responding to the apparent breach attempt. Each repositioning drew them further from the actual escape route while creating gaps in their coverage.

She placed the final charge near the building's main support column. This one carried more punch, enough to make them think she was attempting a structural collapse. The kind of desperate move they'd expect from someone running out of options.

A shadow moved wrong at the end of the hall. Jude dropped and rolled as bullets sparked against the reinforced walls.Three attackers this time, all moving with the synchronization that screamed military training. She used their practiced coordination against them, forcing them to cluster to maintain formation.

The fight was brutally efficient. She recognized their hand-to-hand style—the same CQC techniques she had learned in BUD/S—and countered with moves they wouldn't expect. When it ended, she acquired another radio and fresh magazines for her weapon.

"Teams One and Two, converge on breach point Delta," the command channel crackled. "Target is attempting to create an exit route."

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