FLINT: a Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists series Novella by Ellie Masters

Author:Ellie Masters [Masters, Ellie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JEM Publishing
Published: 2025-12-23T00:00:00+00:00

EIGHT

CAROLINA

The drive to Camp Cielo Azul takes ninety minutes, the convoy of FBI and Guardian HRS vehicles winding through hills that turn from coastal scrub to oak woodland to pine forest.

I ride in an FBI suburban, Flint beside me in the back seat, his presence solid and grounding. We don't talk much—both of us are in pre-mission headspace, running through scenarios and contingencies, preparing for what's coming.

But his hand finds mine between the seats, fingers threading through mine, and that simple contact says everything words can't.

The camp is a collection of rustic buildings scattered across a meadow—main lodge, several cabin clusters, a dining hall with a peaked roof, storage buildings, and a covered pavilion for outdoor education.

Under different circumstances, it’s idyllic, the kind of place kids remember forever as summer magic and nature adventures. Now it's a ghost town, evacuated and silent, waiting for the device that will either be disarmed or tear it apart.

The FBI establishes a command post in the parking area, tactical vehicles and equipment staged with military precision. Bomb techs in heavy suits stand by, medical personnel prepping their equipment, Guardian HRS operators establish the perimeter.

It's a massive response, dozens of people, and the weight of their presence reminds me that failure here doesn't just mean my death—it means I fail all of them, fail the people who trusted me to be good enough.

Parker briefs me on the device location. "Staff spotted it in the main lodge. Wires visible behind the industrial refrigerator, timer display showing 4:32. Our techs did a preliminary scan—confirmed it matches the signature from Device One."

"I'll need to see it," I say, already running through approaches in my head. "Full workspace, good lighting, someone who can hand me tools without me having to look away from the device."

"I'll do it," Flint says immediately. "I've cross-trained on basic EOD support. I can hand you tools, hold things steady, whatever you need."

I start to object—he should be staying back, staying safe with those cracked ribs—but the look in his eyes stops me. He's not offering because he's the best person for the job. He's offering because he's not letting me face this alone, and arguing will waste time we don't have.

"Okay," I agree. "But you stay behind me, out of the primary blast radius if this goes wrong."

"Not acceptable."

"Flint—"

"If it goes wrong, we both go together or neither of us goes at all." His voice is gentle but immovable. "I'm not surviving you, Carolina. So you better make sure you get this right."

The words should be morbid, but instead they're oddly comforting. We're in this together. All the way. Whatever happens.

I suit up in minimal EOD gear—the full bomb suit would be too restrictive, too slow, and with Greer's modifications, it probably wouldn't save me anyway if I'm wrong. Just a vest, gloves, and a headlamp.

Flint checks his weapons, moving carefully but well despite the compression wrap around his ribs, and then we're walking toward the main lodge together.

The building is timber and stone,

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