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He scans quickly—eyes moving, calculating.
Always calculating.
“There,” he says.
I follow his gaze—
A narrow clearing.
Minimal tree cover.
Open sky.
“You want to draw it in,” I realize.
“Yeah.”
“That’s risky.”
“Yeah.”
I almost smile.
Because that’s apparently our strategy now.
We move together without another word.
He steps into the clearing first.
Deliberate.
Exposed.
Drawing attention.
The drone reacts instantly—
Lowering.
Adjusting.
Locking onto him.
“Jase—” I start.
“Wait,” he says sharply.
He stands there.
Still.
Too still.
Too exposed.
“What are you doing?” I hiss.
“Trust me.”
