Chase’s POV
The first real raid came at 3:07 a.m.
I woke to the low, urgent growl of the perimeter alarm—three short pulses, the signal for breach. No hesitation. I rolled out of bed, knee stiff but functional, and grabbed the radio from the nightstand before my feet even hit the floor.
Amelia was already sitting up, eyes wide in the dark.
“Northern fence,” I said, voice low. “Small team. Stay with the kids.”
She nodded once—sharp, no argument—and slipped out of bed, robe pulled on in one motion. I watched her disappear down the hall toward the nursery, then limped to the porch command post we’d set up weeks ago: folding table, laptop with live feeds, radio, and a loaded rifle I hoped I wouldn’t need.
Rafe’s voice crackled through the speaker the second I keyed it.
“Four hostiles.
