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Logan’s gaze follows mine.
“Yeah.”
No debris.
No natural scatter.
The ground is clear in a way it shouldn’t be.
And that means—
“It’s marked,” I say.
A beat.
“For what?”
I inhale slowly.
Then—
“Movement.”
The word lands sharp.
Because now I see it.
Not fully.
But enough.
“This is a funnel,” I continue. “We step through that, we’re exactly where he wants us.”
Logan’s jaw tightens.
“Kill zone.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Calculating.
Then—
“We go around,” he says.
I shake my head slightly.
“No.”
His eyes snap to mine.
“Scout—”
“If we go around,” I cut in, “we lose control of the field.”
