Not now.
You don’t waste energy on unwinnable fights.
She stumbled once as they shoved her toward a black SUV parked farther down the road.
Cleaner than the others.
Prepared.
Waiting.
This operation had been planned long before the convoy ever arrived.
The realization settled cold in her stomach.
As they dragged her forward, she glanced back quickly.
Count heads.
One child missing from the group.
No—there.
Hidden behind one of the volunteers.
Alive.
Good.
One medic conscious.
Another not moving.
No visible military response.
No backup coming.
Not yet.
Fine.
Then she survived long enough to create an opportunity.
Same as always.
The men shoved her into the back of the SUV.
The door slammed hard behind her, plunging her into darkness.
The vehicle lurched forward seconds later.
Hannah braced herself against the side wall as rough terrain jolted beneath the tires.
No windows.
No visibility.
Just engine vibration and heat trapped inside the cramped compartment.
