I pull thermal overlays across the subterranean corridor Ronan is shadowing, then widen the scope to include adjacent tunnels, inactive nodes, and blind bends in the infrastructure.
There.
A secondary chamber branching off the staging node.
Smaller. Cleaner. New restraints.
I whisper, “Malenkov, you bastard.”
Because this isn’t redundancy.
This is bait.
I open the secure channel immediately.
“Ronan,” I say. “Do not accelerate.”
His voice comes back calm, controlled. “We’re holding shadow.”
“Good,” I reply. “Because he’s building a second pressure point.”
Silence.
Then, carefully, “Explain.”
“He’s not just moving Jonah,” I say. “He’s positioning leverage—parallel asset. Female. Civilian classification. She’s not meant to survive long-term.”
Aaron cuts in, sharp. “Another hostage?”
“Not a hostage,” I correct. “A trigger. I’m sure he’s going to use her to get Jonah to talk.”
Ronan exhales slowly. I can hear the restraint in it—theinstinct to strike, to shut this down hard and fast.
I don’t give him time to spiral.
“He wants you to choose,” I continue. “Jonah or the unknown variable. Movement or hesitation. Either way, you break cover.”
“And if we don’t?” Miles asks.
“Then he escalates,” I answer. “Publicly. Sloppily. Somewhere youcan’tignore.”
I pull up the profile I’ve already started building.
Age range. Travel history. Journalistic overlaps. Finding out if anyone is missing.
Then the name resolves.
I freeze.
This is bad.
“Lena?” Ronan says quietly.
“She’s a journalist,” I say. “Professionally, I’m sure Jonah knows her, and she must know who he is. She chased the paper trail before your team disappeared.”
Aaron swears under his breath.
Malenkov didn’t just grab leverage.
