Page 258 of Rangers Mountain Rescue

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Mable blinks.

Then straightens.

“I most certainly do not,” she says. “Not when there’s clearly something going on in my town.”

Her town.

Of course.

Behind her, the other two ladies nod in agreement.

One of them squints at the CIA agents.

“I don’t like the look of them,” she says.

Buddy growls louder.

“See?” she adds. “The dog knows.”

I almost laugh.

Almost.

The tension cracks just enough to breathe.

But Havoc?

Havoc doesn’t budge.

He steps forward.

Places himself between them and the rest of the room.

“You need to go home,” he repeats.

This time, there’s no room for argument.

Mable studies him.

Really studies him.

And something shifts.

She sees it.

The danger.

The seriousness.

The line he’s not letting anyone cross.

Her expression softens slightly.

“Well,” she says, quieter now, “you could’ve just said that nicely.”

Briggs snorts.

Havoc doesn’t even blink.

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