Holt was pleased. Too pleased. And Rook, he played it perfectly, pointing, talking, gesturing like he was explaining exactly how he'd caught her, like he was handing over a prize. For the next hour, I watched as Holt questioned Sihaya while his men gathered around. This wasn't just curiosity.
This was a show, something important to their leader. Through the glass, I saw her hold steady, tall, controlled, proud. She gave him just enough, but never more than she had to. Then Holt gave an order. Two men stepped forward and took her away toward one of the larger shelters.
Cold hit my chest like a blade. They were separating her from Rook, cutting off any chance of coordination. This was the most dangerous part of the plan. For the next few hours, Sihaya would be alone, right in the heart of Holt's operation. No backup, no signal, no way out if things turned bad.
All I could do was watch and wait, trusting that the woman I was falling for was as strong and as sharp as I believed. But as the afternoon dragged on and shadows stretched across the canyon floor, something started to feel wrong. Holt paced back and forth, arguing with his lieutenants, pointing again and again toward the shelter where they'd taken Sihaya. Whatever she'd told him, or refused to tell him, it was rattling him bad. And then I saw it, the moment everything changed.
Holt started barking orders. His men began gathering weapons, supplies, but they weren't getting ready for an ambush. They were packing to move now, and they were taking Sihaya with them. The plan didn't just go bad, it went catastrophic. I had to make a choice, and fast.
Stick to the plan, wait for Rook to signal when he had what we needed, or break cover, create a distraction, give them a chance to get out alive. Through the binoculars, I saw the urgency in every movement. They'd be riding out in less than an hour. Whatever had spooked Holt, it was big enough to make him abandon his own camp. Then I spotted Rook near the horse corral.
Even from that distance, I could see it in him, the tension, the way he tried to look calm, but kept glancing toward the shelter where Sihaya was held. Something had gone wrong. Real wrong. I was still weighing my options when the decision got made for me. One of Holt's men, a thin, dangerous-looking bastard I'd seen earlier, walked up to Rook, his hand resting on his gun.
I didn't hear a word. Didn't need to. Rook's cover was blown. Holt had figured it out. Rook wasn't there for revenge.
He wasn't delivering Cairo's sister, and that meant, in a matter of minutes, both Rook Vatcher and Sihaya would be dead. I'd been behind a rifle long enough to know when quiet had to give way to action. Sometimes the best plan was the simplest one. Start shooting and don't stop until the bad men are down or running. I checked my weapons one last time.