Then Valentine returns with his coat damp and his expression carefully blank.
“Seytan’s not just calling,” he says. “She’s moving.”
Bones looks up. “How do you know?”
Valentine doesn’t meet my eyes when he answers. “Because I know how she operates. And I have a guy on the inside.”
“Containment,” Bones says.
Valentine nods once. “In her language: salvage and sterilise.”
Honey’s mouth goes flat. “No survivors.”
Valentine’s jaw tightens. “Not if she can help it. She doesn’t want Kayla.”
My blood goes cold and hot at once. “Then we don’t wait.”
Bones holds my gaze. “We wait for coordinates or we die chasing a decoy.”
“I don’t care,” I say.
“I do,” Bones replies, and there’s no moralising in it – just strategy. “Because if we die, she wins by default.”
Hatchet’s eyes flick toward the office door, then back. A tiny movement of attention, like a silent agreement:clock’s running now.
Ghost whispers, “He says boats sink,” and flinches like he didn’t mean to speak aloud.
Snow laughs softly. “Ark,” he murmurs, like he’s tasting it.
I turn my head slowly.
Snow meets my gaze with that too-bright expression that always means he’s entertaining himself with something cruel.
“Say it,” I tell him.
He smiles. “Nothing. Just…funny word.”
Bones’s stare narrows. Valentine’s shoulders square.
Hatchet doesn’t move, but the air around him tightens.
We’re all thinking the same thing.
If Snow knows more than he’s saying, he’s going to get someone killed.
If Snow doesn’t know more, he’s still going to try to make it true.
I don’t trust the guy. And if he double-crosses us, I’ll kill him myself.
The burner ringsagain near evening.
This time Bones answers on the first vibration and puts it on speaker without looking at anyone for permission.
Branson’s voice comes through, harsher, urgent. “I’ve got it.”
The room changes.
It doesn’t matter what he says next – everything in us leans forward.
