“You think this was extraction?” Sentinel continues. “A rescue?”
The man hesitates. “It… wasn’t?”
Sentinel’s mouth curves slightly.
Not a smile.
Recognition.
“She gave him the door,” he says. “Not the location. Not the access point.”
A beat.
“She gave himtime.”
The man frowns. “Sir, with respect—she was contained.”
“No,” Sentinel replies, voice still quiet. “She was choosing.”
That’s what they never understand.
Containment is physical.
Control is psychological.
And Scout Fallon—
Was never his.
He walks past the man, unhurried, each step measured.
“She studied the system,” Sentinel continues. “Mapped it. Waited.”
His eyes sharpen.
“And then she used me to bring him in.”
That part is almost…
Impressive.
Almost.
“She turned you into a vulnerability,” the man says carefully.
Sentinel stops.
Considers that.
Then nods once.
“Yes.”
No denial.
No ego.
Just fact.
