12
REAGAN
The sanctuary's command center hummed with controlled tension as Reagan monitored the twin operations on facing screens. Her injured shoulder throbbed beneath fresh bandages, a persistent reminder of her physical limitations. She adjusted the communications headset with her good arm and leaned forward, studying the thermal imagery of the courthouse where Ingrid was currently infiltrating Judge Stroud's chambers.
"Status check, Phoenix One," Reagan said, using Ingrid's operational designation.
"Approaching security checkpoint," Ingrid's calm voice replied. "Documentation prepared. No anomalies."
Reagan shifted her attention to the second screen, displaying Eve's position near the Capitol Complex. The maintenance uniform provided perfect cover as Eve moved through the service corridor toward Senator Barrow's office.
"Phoenix Two, check," Reagan prompted.
"Security rotation on schedule," Eve responded. "Approaching service entrance C. Blind spot in twenty seconds."
Reagan's fingers tightened on the edge of the console. She should be there, not coordinating from a distance. The bullet wound that had nearly killed her now kept her caged while others executed her mission.
"Wireless network secure," Elena reported from the adjacent station. "Monitoring all security channels."
"Phoenix One has cleared the primary checkpoint," Sophia announced, tracking Ingrid's progress.
Reagan nodded, her gaze fixed on the thermal signatures moving through the courthouse. "Maintain surveillance of all security personnel. Any deviation from established patterns, I want to know immediately."
The operations had been meticulously planned: Ingrid would access the maintenance shaft adjacent to the women's restroom, bypassing security to reach Stroud's server room, while Eve extracted evidence from Barrow's private terminal. Both targets simultaneously exposed, their decades of corruption laid bare for federal prosecution.
"Phoenix Two entering blind spot now," Elena reported.
Reagan watched Eve's signature disappear momentarily from surveillance, the seven-second window they'd identified during planning. Her stomach tightened with familiar anxiety, the momentary loss of visual contact triggering protective instincts she couldn't suppress.
"Phoenix Two has cleared entry point," came Eve's confirmation, her voice steady and professional. "Proceeding to target location."
Reagan exhaled slowly, then froze as something caught her attention on the courthouse security feed. "Hold position. What's that?"
She pointed to a cluster of thermal signatures moving through the building's west wing, a wing that should have been minimally staffed during their operational window.
Sophia enhanced the feed, her expression darkening. "Security team moving with purpose."
"That's not standard procedure," Reagan noted, unease building beneath her sternum. "Ping Foster for update."
While they waited for Foster's response, Reagan focused on Ingrid's position. "Phoenix One, be advised, potential security anomaly in west wing. Proceed with additional caution."
"Acknowledged," Ingrid responded, her voice betraying no concern despite the warning.
"Foster's update incoming," Elena reported, her hands flying across the keyboard. "Message reads: 'Martinez pulled officers from regular patrol ten minutes ago. Destination unknown. Tactical gear deployed.'"
The implications crystallized in Reagan's mind with cold clarity. "She knows."
"Both operations?" Sophia asked.
"Uncertain," Reagan replied, mentally recalculating. "But we have to assume we’re compromised. Phoenix Two, status check."
"Proceeding as planned," Eve responded. "Third checkpoint cleared."
Reagan studied the Capitol Complex feeds, searching for any sign of the same tactical movement they'd detected at the courthouse. Nothing obvious yet, but Martinez was too thorough to focus on just one target.
"Additional thermal signatures entering courthouse north entrance," Elena reported. "Moving with tactical formation."
"They're boxing Ingrid in," Reagan realized.