She knew.
I hadn't told her about the backup—the helicopters, the boats, the small army circling Deveaux Bank like sharks waiting for blood in the water.
But she knew anyway.
Because Joy was smart. Observant. And she'd seen enough in the last few days to understand how this worked.
This could all be a trap.
Not even a complicated one.
A couple of sniper shots from across the water. Explosives buried in the sand. Someone posing as Victoria but really just an assassin with a mandate and a paycheck.
We could be landing on a strip of sand that would be our last.
And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it except go anyway.
Dad stepped into the armory, already geared up, his expression grim. "Ready?"
I nodded.
Joy nodded, too.
Dad's eyes lingered on her for a moment, something like respect flickering across his face. "You don't have to do this."
"Yes, I do," Joy said quietly.
He didn't argue. Just inclined his head once, acknowledging the truth of it.
I still wanted to argue. Wanted to lock her in a room and deal with Victoria myself. But I'd already tried that conversation twice, and Joy had shut me down both times with a look that saiddon't you dare.
So, I didn't.
Instead, I reached for her hand and held on.
The helicopter was waiting on the lawn, sleek and black, rotors already spinning.
We climbed in, the noise swallowing conversation, and buckled into the seats. Joy's hand found mine immediately, fingers lacing tight, and she didn't let go.
Not during takeoff.
Not when the city fell away beneath us and the marsh spread out like a dark, breathing thing.
Not when the pilot's voice crackled over the comms:"Dominion Hall actual, we have eyes on Deveaux Bank. One figure. Thermals show no other human shapes in the immediate vicinity."
At least there was that.
I glanced at Dad, sitting across from us, his face illuminated by the faint glow of the instrument panel. He looked calm. Focused.
But I could see the tension in his jaw. The way his hand rested on his sidearm like a reflex.
This was the man who'd taught me to shoot. To track. To survive.
The man who'd vanished when I was a kid and left a hole in my life I'd spent fifteen years trying to fill with violence and distance.
And now here he was.
For the first time, I was flying into danger with my father at my side.
