“They’re using her.”
“Yes.”
“And she’s already inside the system.”
A pause settles over the room—not uncertainty. Calculation.
The man doesn’t look at the screens. He doesn’t need to. Everything worth knowing is already in motion.
“She adapted faster than expected,” the second voice adds. “She’s not just responding. She’s… reorganizing.”
A faint smile touches the man’s mouth.
“Of course she is.”
“She’s stabilizing their side,” the other says. “If she locks the pattern, we lose visibility.”
“No,” the man replies calmly. “We don’t lose anything.”
He finally turns, stepping into the glow of the monitors—data reflecting across his face in fractured light.
“We escalate.”
Silence.
Measured. Anticipatory.
“And the team?” the second voice asks. “They’re already tightening around her. Pierce. Aaron. Jase Dalton is standing outside guarding the building.”
“They’re predictable,” the man says.
“How?”
“They protect.”
Another pause.
This one sharper.
More dangerous.
“Then it’s time for Phase Four.”
The second voice hesitates this time.
A rare thing.
“What’s Phase Four?”
The man’s smile deepens—not wide, not dramatic. Controlled. Certain.
“Remove the protector.”
A beat.
“Which one?”
The man tilts his head slightly, watching something unseen.
