When she blinked in disbelief, Hawk moved his shoulders. “What he said.”

“Exactly.” Gabe smiled at her. “While we’re setting up, I’ll talk to the DEA and FBI. By the time their agents arrive, we should be back in Rescue with the women and children—and the PZs will have the feds to worry about. Now, let’s finish getting this planned out.”

Caz frowned. “They have dogs and wandering sentries.”

Frankie leaned forward and set her finger on a square. “Here, this is the corner watchtower guard that overlooks the area behind the women’s barracks.”

Hawk stretched his legs out and smiled slightly. “Watchtower’s mine.”

Before she could respond, Bull said, “Gryff and I might have an idea or two about the dogs. Gryff’ll want to play.” His dark eyes glinted with laughter.

Frankie shook her head. Mako must have had an…interesting…sense of humor because his sons seemed to have inherited it.

At Obadiah’s small prefab, Kit was trying to make his bed with one hand. Her right arm was in a sling and ached like…like a broken bone. God, it had hurt so much worse than when he’d snapped two of her fingers. Even more than when he’d broken one of her ribs. The memory, the sound of her arm breaking still echoed within her other bones, leaving a shivery feeling inside.

Her husband sat at the small table and ate the pie she’d brought him from the cafeteria. He liked making her wait on him. Especially on the nights he wasn’t on sentry duty and he could fuck her before he went to bed.

Oh, Frankie, you were so right about him.

Fear for her friend made her fidget. They knew about Frankie, and Obadiah had asked over and over why she’d have come to Alaska. Kit kept repeating that Frankie’d always wanted to vacation in Alaska. Obadiah had lost his temper and broken her arm, ending the questions.

Because she’d passed out.

They knew, though. They knew Frankie was here for Kit. If Nabera thought Frankie had learned too much, he’d hurt her, even kill her.

How could I have been so selfish to put Frankie’s life at risk?

Pattering footsteps sounded outside, then Aric raced through the door, slamming into her legs.

He’s why.

She bent to hug her son, breathing in the wild fragrance of little boy. Oh, she would risk Frankie’s life, her own life, the whole world for him.

“What are you doing here, you little bastard?” Obadiah slammed his fist on the table, making Aric jump.

Stepping away, her boy clasped his hands at his waist and bowed his head.

“He’s finished his work and came to say good night.” Kit tried for a light tone, then turned to Aric. “Get on back to your barracks, honey.” She hugged him with her uninjured arm and whispered, “Sweet dreams, my baby.”