Waiting for me.
“She’s alive,” I say quietly.
Miles glances toward me. “You sure?”
I don’t hesitate.
“Yeah.”
Because I know her.
Because she’s too stubborn to die quietly.
Because she’ll fight them every second she’s breathing.
And because there’s something deep in my gut telling me she’s still holding on.
Waiting.
I check my weapon one last time.
The click of the magazine locking into place echoes softly through the rocks.
“Gear up,” I say.
The team moves instantly.
Weapons checked.
Ammo redistributed.
Routes discussed.
Everyone slipping back into mission mode.
And me?
I feel strangely calm now.
Not numb.
Focused.
Cold enough to be dangerous.
Because this stopped being about survival the second they took her.
Now it’s personal.
And God help whoever’s standing between me and Olivia when I get there.
24
Olivia
They keep underestimating me.
I see it every time the guards look through the door.
