Chapter 4 - Inside the WireThe operations trailer shook slightly as a heavy diesel truck shifted gears outside in the freight yard. Inside, the space was cramped, illuminated only by the harsh, flickering glare of three computer monitors displaying live security feeds of the compound.

Cole Mercer tossed his tactical cap onto the metal desk and dropped the heavy manifest tablet beside a steaming mug of black coffee. He reached for the keyboard to execute the final data wipe, muttering curses under his breath about the unexpected complication Riley Quinn represented.
Before his fingers touched the keys, the overhead fluorescent light flickered and died.
"What the—" Cole muttered, standing up and reaching for his sidearm.
The heavy metal door of the trailer swung open silently. A figure slipped inside before Cole could pivot.
Before he could shout an alarm, Riley closed the distance with terrifying speed. She swept his legs out from under him, sending the massive sergeant crashing hard onto the linoleum floor. Before he could recover, she pinned his arm behind his back and pressed her knee firmly against his spine, neutralizing his weight advantage entirely.
"You're learning how to own a room, Sergeant," Riley whispered coldly into his ear, her hand snatching the manifest tablet off the desk. "Lesson one: always watch your blind spots."
Cole struggled furiously, thrashing against her grip, but Riley adjusted her hold, cutting off his air supply just enough to keep him motionless.
The door opened wider, and Captain Hale stepped inside, quickly securing the deadbolt and sliding a heavy steel wedge beneath the frame. He checked his watch. "Federal transport is five minutes out. We have the data. Let's move."
"Not yet, Captain," Riley said, her eyes fixed on the computer monitor glowing on the desk. "Cole wasn't just wiping local files. He was executing a remote transfer to an off-site receiver."
She tapped the keyboard, bypassing Cole's administrative lockout using the master privileges she had scavenged from Archive-4. The monitor flashed amber, displaying the destination IP address of the data transfer.
Hale leaned over her shoulder, reading the scrolling text. "That's not a civilian server. That's a dedicated relay node inside the installation's communications command center. Lawson is right down the hall."
"Which means Lawson knows we're here," Riley said grimly.
Suddenly, heavy blows hammered against the exterior metal door of the trailer.
“Sergeant Mercer! Open up!” shouted Aaron Pike’s voice from outside, accompanied by the unmistakable metallic racking of assault rifles.
"We're locked in a box," Hale said, drawing his service pistol. "They're going to breach."
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Riley didn't panic. Her analytical mind mapped the trailer's layout in seconds. She pointed toward the rear emergency egress panel—a small, ceiling-height ventilation hatch normally used for chemical fume extraction.
"Get up on the desk, Captain," Riley ordered, hoisting the manifest tablet into her tactical pouch. "We're taking the scenic route."
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