Page 66 of Pursuit of Her

The sanctuary door opened as Dr. Hammond entered, concern etched across her features as she observed the developing situation.

"Phoenix One," Reagan instructed, "abort approach to server room. Divert to emergency exit path Delta."

"Negative," Ingrid countered. "I'm already at access point. Thirty seconds to retrieve data."

Reagan's jaw tightened, the familiar weight of operational command settling acrossher shoulders. She was responsible for every network member's safety, for the mission they'd spent years building toward, and for Eve—who was potentially walking into an identical trap.

"Something's wrong at Capitol security," Sophia reported suddenly, pointing to new movement on the second screen. "Standard rotation interrupted."

Reagan leaned forward, studying the pattern as adrenaline surged through her system. "Martinez isn't just reacting. This is coordinated."

She activated the full communication channel. "All operatives, be advised. Operations compromised. Prepare for immediate shift to contingency protocol Omega."

As the network launched into practiced emergency procedures, Reagan's gaze remained fixed on Eve's thermal signature, now moving deeper into what increasingly appeared to be a carefully constructed trap. The mission that had consumed a decade of her life was unraveling in real time, and the woman she'd only just found again was at the heart of the danger.

Reagan reached for the tactical vest drapedacross the adjacent chair, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through her wounded shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Dr. Hammond demanded.

"What's necessary," Reagan replied, already calculating the fastest route to Eve's position. She would not lose her again—not to Martinez, not to the corrupt system, not to anything or anyone.

Even if it meant tearing every suture in her body.

Reagan fastened the tactical vest, ignoring Dr. Hammond's protests as she gathered essential equipment. The sanctuary team continued monitoring both operations, tension escalating as the situation deteriorated.

"Signal interference on Phoenix One's comm," Elena announced, fingers flying across her keyboard as she attempted to restore the connection. "Last transmission showed her accessing the maintenance shaft."

Reagan paused her preparations, studying the thermal imaging with increasing concern. The unexpected security team had split into smaller units, methodically sweeping the courthouse floor by floor. This wasn't standard protocol; this was a hunting pattern.

"Phoenix One, report," Reagan commanded, frustration mounting as static answered. "Phoenix One, acknowledge."

"Signal's being jammed," Sophia confirmed, redirecting satellite coverage. "They came prepared."

Reagan's mind raced through contingencies. "Activate emergency extraction team for Phoenix One. Full protocol, immediate execution."

A network operative nodded, already coordinating the courthouse extraction team through encrypted channels. Reagan turned her attention to the Capitol Complex, where Eve continued her approach to Barrow's office, still unaware of the developing crisis.

"Phoenix Two, situation update," Reagan transmitted, checking her weapon. "Courthouse operation compromised. Security teams deployed with tactical equipment. Exercise extreme caution."

"Understood," Eve replied, her voice steady despite the warning. "I'm three corridors from the target. No visible security increase at my position."

Even as Eve spoke, Reagan spotted movement on the Capitol feed—the same precise, coordinated pattern they'd observed at the courthouse. Martinez was deploying teams to both locations simultaneously.

"Phoenix Two, be advised," Reagan warned, securing medical supplies to her tactical belt. “Thermal imaging shows a tac team entering through the northeast service entrance. Pattern matches courthouse deployment."

"Acknowledged," Eve responded. "Continuing approach with heightened awareness."

Foster's encrypted message flashed on Reagan's screen: "Martinez deployed SWAT to the courthouse and Capitol Complex. Full tactical authorization. Orders to apprehend 'armed vigilante suspects' at all costs."

"All costs," Reagan echoed grimly. "They're not planning arrests."

Dr. Hammond gripped Reagan's uninjured arm. "This is suicide with that wound. You won't make it halfway to the Capitol before blood loss compromises your function."

"If I don't go, Eve doesn't make it out at all," Reagan countered. "Ten years of work. All the evidence against Stroud and Barrow. Our only chance at exposing the entire network."

The sanctuary door burst open as Ingrid Westfield entered, blood streaming from a cut above her eye, assisted by two network operatives.

"Ingrid." Reagan moved toward her. "What happened?"

---