Through the trees, Lokan could make out lights—flashlights moving in a search pattern. Occasionally, he caught the sound of Russian voices, though distance made the words indistinguishable.
"It's more likely the welcoming committee Turner arranged," Dougal said hopefully. "I just didn't expect them to cross so far into Mongolia to get us."
Neither had Lokan.
He closed his eyes, extending his mental reach toward the approaching soldiers. Human minds were usually easy to read and influence, but he needed to be closer to do so. From this far, he could potentially get glimpses of their thoughts.
Hopefully.
The moment he touched the first mind, he immediately felt that something was off. These weren't the disciplined thoughts of a professional soldier. There was an eagerness there, ananticipation that spoke of a man expecting action, expecting a payday.
"Mercenaries," he whispered. "Or rogue soldiers doing some freelance work."
"You think they are paid by the Brotherhood?" Carol moved her hand to her sidearm.
"Possibly. I can't get deep into their mind from this far away. They seem to be looking for someone." He gave it another try, straining to collect more fragments of thoughts. "They're looking for us. Four men and a woman."
The patrol was getting closer, their search pattern methodical. In a few minutes, they'd be within visual range even in the darkness.
"I can handle this," Lokan said. "Human minds are easy to?—"
"You," one of the Russians called out in accented English. "We know you're there. Come out. We mean no harm."
Everyone tensed. Carol was already aiming her weapon in the direction of the voice.
"We are sent by a mutual friend," the voice continued. "To escort you to safety. Please, no shooting. We are all friends here."
"Could be legitimate," Camden whispered. "Turner's people would know our group composition."
"The Brotherhood knows it as well," Grant countered. "This feels like a trap."
Lokan had to make a decision. They could fight, but gunfire so close to the border would bring every patrol in the area. Theycould run, but the Russians knew their position now. Or he could trust in his abilities and handle this his way.
"Stay here," he told the others. "I'll verify their intentions."
Before anyone could protest, he stood and stepped into view, hands visible but ready to move if needed. "I'm here," he called in Russian. "Approach slowly."
Six men emerged from the trees, weapons lowered but not put away. They wore Russian military uniforms, but Lokan's enhanced vision caught details that didn't fit—non-regulation boots, personalized equipment, the too-casual way they held their weapons.
The leader, a grizzled man with sergeant's stripes, smiled broadly. "Ah, excellent. You match description perfectly. You are expected, yes? Transportation is waiting."
Lokan reached into the man's mind, expecting the usual ease of reading human thoughts. Instead, he found focus, discipline, and underneath it all, a core of absolute certainty about their mission.
These men had been paid, but not by the Brotherhood. The mental signature was different—cleaner, more professional. Turner's network, most likely. But something still felt off.
"Where is this transportation?" Lokan asked, maintaining his mental probe.
"Less than two kilometers down the mountain. Your friends can come out now. We all want to go home, yes?"
The sergeant's thoughts remained consistent: escort the targets to the vehicles and deliver them to the extraction point. Simple.Professional. But there was something else, a slight note of discord that made Lokan hesitate.
"Carol," he said without taking his eyes off the Russians. "Bring the others. It's safe."
She emerged first, weapon still ready, followed by the three Guardians. The Russians showed no surprise at their appearance, which meant they'd known exactly where everyone was hidden.
"Ah, the famous Carol," the sergeant said with another broad smile. "Such beauty! No wonder you risk so much to protect her, yes?"
Carol's expression could have frozen fire. "Let's skip the charm offensive. How do we know you're really Turner's people?"
