"Maybe. But can you make the hard calls if it comes down to saving her versus completing the mission?" Stryker's expression is serious now. "Because that's what Kane's worried about. That you've compromised your judgment."
The question lands like a punch. Because I don't have a good answer. Don't know if I could sacrifice Reagan for mission objectives the way I've sacrificed others in the past.
Don't know if I want to be someone who could make that calculation anymore.
"I'll do my job," I say finally.
"That's not what I asked."
Before I can respond, Tommy's voice cuts through the command center from the speakers. "Kane, we have a problem."
Everyone stops. Converges on the main terminal where Tommy's face appears on the secure video feed from Echo Base.
"Talk to me," Kane says.
"The Committee's cyber division just pinged four locations in Montana." Tommy's fingers fly across keyboards on his end. "Automated probes searching for digital signatures. They're being systematic. Checking every property within fifty miles of Reagan's last known position."
"How systematic?" I move closer to the screen.
"Grid pattern. They're eliminating possibilities through exclusion. Any location without normal digital traffic gets flagged for physical verification." Tommy pulls up a map showing the search pattern. "They've covered forty percent of the target area in the last six hours. At this rate, they'll hit this location soon."
"Can you mask our signature?" Reagan asks.
"Already doing it. But masking makes us look suspicious. Too quiet is almost as bad as too loud." Tommy's expression is grim. "They're thorough. They're patient. And they have resources we can't match."
Kane's jaw tightens. "Revised timeline?"
"Days." Tommy closes the map. "You need to start planning evacuation. Because when they find you, they won't probe. They'll hit hard and fast with overwhelming force."
The words settle over the command center like a death sentence. Not much time before the Committee finds us. Before this safe house becomes a battlefield. Before we're running again with nowhere left to hide.
I look at Reagan. She meets my eyes across the room. In that moment, conflict shadows her expression—the same calculation I'm running. How to survive when the enemy has unlimited resources and we're running out of places to disappear.
Kane starts issuing orders. Stryker moves to prep evacuation kits. Khalid sits very still in his corner, book forgotten in his lap.
Reagan crosses to me. Stands close enough that fear shows clearly despite her control.
"Not much time," she says quietly.
"No," I agree.
"Think we can make it count?"
I take her hand. Feel the calluses from her keyboard, the tremor she's suppressing. "We better. Because after that, nowhere is safe."
Kane's voice cuts through the room, sharp and efficient. "Evacuation protocols. Everyone familiarize themselves with three exit routes. Emergency kits packed and staged. Reagan, you stay within twenty feet of Dylan at all times."
Reagan's jaw tightens but she doesn't argue. Knows the protocol makes sense even if she hates the restriction.
"Tommy, keep monitoring their search pattern," Kane continues. "Alert us the second they narrow the radius. Stryker, coordinate with Sarah on alternate locations. We need options if this one gets burned."
The team moves into action. Practiced. Efficient. This is what we do—adapt when operations go sideways. Plan for worst-case scenarios. Survive when survival seems impossible.
But watching Reagan's hand in mine, feeling Khalid's eyes tracking us from across the room, seeing Kane calculate odds that keep getting worse—this feels different.
This feels like we're running out of moves.
Outside, the Committee's cyber division works through their grid. Property by property. Location by location. Each check brings them closer. Each hour shrinks the circle of possibilities.
