Chapter 15
Deep within an abandoned industrial sector on the outskirts of Coronado, the shadows lengthened as the sun finally dipped below the Pacific horizon. Emily Carter stood inside a decaying concrete warehouse, stripping away her simple black dress. She replaced it with a skin-tight, radar-absorbent tactical suit and a heavy Kevlar vest.
The exhaustion that had pale her fair, rosy skin was entirely overridden by combat adrenaline. She strapped a suppressed tactical pistol to her thigh and slung a compact, heavily modified submachine gun over her shoulder. She looked at the narrow silver watch on her wrist; the holographic radar showed three heavily armed cartel vans converging on the waterfront bar where Ryan's teammates were celebrating.
"Vanguard," Commander Hayes's voice echoed in her earpiece. "QRF is five minutes out. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary."
"They will reach the bar in two minutes, Nathaniel," Emily replied calmly, addressing the senior Commander by his first name. "If I wait for your men, those new graduates die. I am redirecting the cartel's GPS grid to this warehouse."
She pulled a heavy ruggedized tablet from her tactical bag and rapidly inputted a string of override codes. Within seconds, she hijacked the cellular towers in the immediate vicinity, spoofing the location tags of the SEALs' cell phones to her exact coordinates.
"They are altering course," Emily confirmed, her posture shifting into an undeniable stance of absolute military authority. "They are coming to me."
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"Emily, there are twenty of them," Hayes warned, a rare crack of genuine fear in his disciplined voice.
"I prefer the odds," Emily noted, her voice perfectly even. She killed her radio feed, plunging the warehouse into absolute silence. She retreated into the pitch-black rafters, melting into the shadows. She was the Vanguard, and she was about to show the cartel exactly why admirals and commanders saluted her.
