"Security screening will detect weapons," Michelle murmured as they collected their belongings. "Backup remains in the vehicle until extraction."
Jenna nodded, her expression transforming as she stepped from the car, Jenna Walsh disappearing beneath Jenna Wolfe's confident exterior. Michelle followed suit, sliding into Michelle Rodriguez's skin with an ease that no longer felt entirely like pretense.
Inside, the beach house revealed panoramic windows offering commanding views of the ocean, while the interior spaces created perfect sight lines for security surveillance. Women moved with purpose through the open-concept living area, some Michelle recognized from PWC headquarters, others unfamiliar—likely international connections to Isabella Garcia's operation.
"Ladies." Kendall appeared at their side, her attire now fully tactical. "Security screening before operational assignments."
The screening proved thorough—electronic wands passed over their bodies, bags inspected, and identifications verified again. Michelle observed the process with detachment, noting camera placements.
"Clean," the security officer announced, handing them operational badges. "Report to Sienna for assignment confirmation."
They found Sienna in what had been converted into a command center—the dining room transformed with multiple monitors displaying shipping coordinates, security feeds, and personnel assignments.
"Right on time," Sienna said, not looking up from her tablet. "Michelle, warehouse inventory as previously discussed. Jenna, documentation center with Mina. Final assignments at 10:30 p.m."
The dismissal was clear. As they moved away, Michelle touched Jenna's elbow lightly, a casual gesture. "Twenty minutes in documentation, then find an excuse to relocate."
Jenna's slight nod acknowledged the instruction without breaking character.
Groups formed and dissolved around them as PWC members prepared for their various roles in the night's operation. Michelle circulated with deliberate purpose, gathering intelligence while projecting the confidence of someone who belonged. She registered Kendall's gaze following her movements, the security chief's suspicion a palpable current.
At precisely 10 p.m., Michelle stepped onto the expansive deck overlooking the private dock for a presumed cigarette break. In reality, she needed visual confirmation of the tactical team’s positioning. The night revealed nothing obvious to untrained eyes, but Michelle caught the subtle signs: a slight disruption in the natural pattern of coastal shadows, the occasional glint of equipment quickly concealed, the disciplined stillness that only came from professional surveillance.
"Quite the view," Nicole commented, appearing beside her. "The isolation makes this property perfect."
Michelle maintained her composed expression despite the woman's unexpected appearance. "Strategic location. Private access with good visibility."
"Sienna is brilliant that way," Nicole replied, lighting her own cigarette. "The property appears on maps as a nature preserve. Minimal oversight."
The casual revelation represented valuable intelligence—explaining how PWC had operated undetected for so long.Michelle filed the information away while keeping her expression appreciative.
"Beautiful night for an operation," she commented, gesturing toward the stars.
"And historic," Nicole agreed. "This shipment represents our largest distribution opportunity to date."
The conversation continued, Michelle extracting details while maintaining her cover. Below them, the dock remained silent and dark, waiting for the midnight delivery that would bring their operation to its climax.
At 10:30 p.m., a low vibration hummed through the house—the security system activating fully. Michelle felt the slight pressure change as doors automatically sealed and windows locked into security mode. The casual atmosphere evaporated as operational focus descended.
"All personnel to the main room," Kendall's voice carried through the integrated speaker system. "Final assignments and security protocols."
The assembled women gathered, and Michelle positioned herself with clear visibility to both exits and Jenna, who stood with Mina near the documentation center entrance. Their eyes met briefly across the room.
Sienna moved to the center, her casual elegance replaced by commanding authority. "The shipment vessel has departed the secondary checkpoint. Arrival in thirty minutes. Final positions, everyone."
The room dissolved into purposeful movement. Michelle joined the warehouse inventory team, led by Alina, while maintaining peripheral awareness of Jenna's movements toward the documentation center with Mina.
Kendall appeared at her side. "Position adjustment. You'll coordinate directly with dock receipt rather than warehouse."
The unexpected change registered as both an opportunity and warning. Dock receipt would place her at the center of the operation, with perfect vantage for surveillance—but also under Kendall's direct supervision.
"Of course," Michelle agreed, maintaining her composed exterior while calculating the impact on extraction timing. "Do we need additional verification personnel?"
"Already covered," Kendall replied, her gaze holding Michelle's with unsettling intensity. "Jenna remains in documentation. Her communication skills will be valuable for the international transfers."
The deliberate separation confirmed Michelle's suspicions: Kendall was testing them—or isolating them.
The next twenty minutes passed in careful preparation. Michelle's team reviewed verification protocols while she mentally marked each team member's position and weapons status. Through careful maneuvers, she maintained visual contact with the documentation center where Jenna worked with Mina, their heads bent over financial records.
