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Let them see weakness.
Let them believe it.
One of them tightens his grip on my arm.
Too confident.
I almost smile.
Inside—
The tingling in my fingers sharpens.
Pain.
Strength.
Return.
Almost there.
Almost.
21
Unknown
“They’re early,” someone says.
“Then we’re late,” the man replies calmly.
No urgency in his voice.
That’s what makes him dangerous.
“She’s not prepped.”
“She doesn’t need to be,” he says. “She just needs to think.”
A pause.
“And the SEAL?”
The man finally looks up.
Interested now.
Curious.
Not concerned.
“If he’s as good as they say…”
A faint smile touches his mouth.
“We won’t have to wait long.”
22
