He doesn’t hesitate.
“Make her think she can’t save both.”
A beat.
“Both what?”
The man’s eyes flick once—just once—toward a secondary feed.
A face.
A location.
A timer beginning to count down.
“Her truth,” he says softly.
“And her protector.”
50
Ronan
Location: Mobile Command — Lisbon Perimeter
Time: Later That Night
The second alert doesn’t arrive.
It detonates.
“Confirmed hit in Vienna,” I say, already moving toward the central screen. “Target didn’t survive.”
The room goes still.
Not shock.
Recognition.
Because we all know what this means.
The list wasn’t a bluff.
It was a test run.
And now—
It’s operational.
Aaron exhales slowly, tension coiling tight in his frame. “They’re accelerating.”
“Yes,” I reply. “They’ve crossed the threshold.”
“How many more names?” someone asks from the back.
I don’t answer.
Because the truth is worse than numbers.
