Page 33 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
Wind shifts five degrees. I make a quarter-inch adjustment to compensate. Sacramento's evening traffic creates a constant background hum sixteen stories below, but up here, I exist in perfect isolation.
"Any visual confirmation it's actually Echo?" Kade's voice comes through my earpiece, the slight static showing he's in motion.
"Negative. Just shadows through the curtains." My eye never leaves the scope. "But the power consumption spiked twenty minutes ago."
Cole's voice cuts in. "Sixteen separate encryption protocols started in the last hour. This is definitely Echo's workspace."
I track the shadow crossing the window. Something about the movements feels familiar. My finger rests alongside the trigger guard, not on the trigger. This isn't that kind of operation.
"This Echo led us on a wild goose chase before," Kade reminds us. "Could be another misdirection."
"Not this time." The certainty in my voice surprises even me. "The USB had trafficking financial records. This is our source."
Cole interrupts. "Three potential entry points. Main entrance requires bypassing electronic security. Roof access has trip sensors. Fire escape looks cleanest but most exposed."
"I'll take the main entrance." I'm already collapsing my rifle. Each component slides into my specialized case with whisper-quiet precision.
"Alone?" Kade's question holds surprise. In our years working together, I've never volunteered for direct contact. I'm the distance man. The watcher.
"The invite named me specifically." My heart rate ticks up two beats per minute. I register the change with detachment. "Two-man approach risks spoking the target."
A pause on the comms. I can almost hear Kade weighing protocol against instinct.
"Overwatch positions?" he finally asks.
"Blade on the northeast corner. You on the building across from the fire escape. If I need extraction, I'll signal."
"Copy that." Kade's voice holds curiosity. "Maintain open comms."
My equipment disappears into the specialized backpack. No trace left behind. I rise from my position, shadow disengaging from shadow.
"Moving to contact."
In the apartment building, the hallway stretches before me, industrial fixtures casting pools of amber light between long shadows. My footsteps make no sound as I move toward apartment 4C. My breathing is controlled, four seconds in, four seconds out.
"In position." I keep my voice just above a whisper.
"Maintaining overwatch." Kade's voice is equally quiet.
The doorframe tells a story: standard electronic keypad upgraded with custom components, a poorly hidden camera with professional-grade optics, standard peephole replaced with wide-angle lens. Amateur and professional elements mixed together.
Something isn't right.
I press my fingertips against the door. It gives slightly.
Unlocked.
My hand drops to my weapon. Echo isn't careless. Every action I've tracked was calculated. This isn't a mistake.
"Door's unsecured." I keep my voice flat despite the warning bells.
"Be advised, massive power consumption inside," Cole transmits. "Serious hardware running."
I draw my Sig Sauer, positioning myself beside the doorframe. My back presses against the wall, muscles coiled.
"Breach protocol?" Kade asks.
Standard protocol demands fallback, evaluation, reinforcements. But something else pushes against that training.Curiosity.A need to understand the person who's been three steps ahead of us.
