Unmarked.
Unescorted.
Just one vehicle.
Because Malenkov believes Jonah is already broken. What he doesn’t know is Jonah will never be broken.
I whisper it aloud. “You’re wrong.”
I tag the location and send apartialpacket to Ronan—enough to slow him, not enough to pull him in too fast.
Then I keep digging.
Because Malenkov doesn’t move men without redundancy.
I find the fallback.
A subterranean holding chamber—temporary. Mobile restraints. Short-term isolation.
If Ronan misses the convoy…
That’s where Jonah goes next.
I feel the weight of it settle in my chest.
This isn’t research anymore.
This is timing.
I finally open the secure channel.
“Ronan,” I say calmly. “He’s moving Jonah. Not fast. Quiet. Rail-adjacent.”
Silence.
Then, sharp: “How sure?”
“Eighty-seven percent,” I answer. “Ninety-five if he thinks Jonah is already spent.”
A pause.
“That’s not enough for you,” he says quietly.
“No,” I agree. “But it’s enough to move.”
Another beat.
“You didn’t wait,” he says—not angry. Acknowledging.
“I couldn’t,” I reply. “You were almost pulled into a trap. This keeps you out of it.”
I hear him breathe. “I love you, sweetheart.”
“Send me everything,” he says.
“I will,” I answer. “But Ronan—”
“Yes?”
