“Agreed.”
Good.
Because there was never another option.
Clay glances toward the east ridge. “They’re gonna use her against us.”
Something vicious twists in my chest at the thought.
I shove it down hard before it can spread.
Focus.
Emotion later.
Violence first.
“They don’t get the chance,” I say quietly.
Miles folds his arms. “And how exactly do you plan on pulling that off?”
Simple.
“We hit them before they’re ready.”
Lucas watches me another second.
Then slowly nods.
“Fast strike.”
“Fast and surgical.”
No hesitation.
No drawn-out firefight.
Get in.
Get her.
Get out.
That’s it.
I rise to my feet and look east again.
Toward wherever they’re holding her.
The image hits immediately anyway—
Olivia tied up somewhere bleeding through that bandage while pretending she isn’t scared.
Jaw tightens.
Breathing steady.
Waiting for us.
