Sentinel’s gaze lingers on the way Logan is angled toward her. The space between them. The focus.
Not operational.
Personal.
“He didn’t assess first,” Sentinel says quietly. “Heconnectedfirst.”
The man frowns. “Sir—”
“That’s not protocol,” Sentinel continues. “That’s instinct.”
A slow, thoughtful silence fills the room.
“And instinct,” he adds, almost to himself, “is where people break.”
Now the man understands.
A little.
“You’re going after him,” he says.
Sentinel finally smiles.
Thin.
Precise.
“I’m going through her.”
The air in the room tightens.
“They’ll expect retaliation,” the man warns. “Increased security. Limited exposure—”
“Yes,” Sentinel agrees. “They’ll build walls.”
A step closer.
Calm.
Certain.
“And she’ll walk right out of them.”
The man hesitates. “Why would she do that?”
Sentinel’s gaze flicks back to the screen.
To the way her eyes are on Logan.
Not afraid.
Not distant.
There.
“That,” he says softly, “is the variable.”
“Carter?”
