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Voice tight.
Controlled.
I don’t respond.
Because I already know.
I stand at the center of the room.
Hands braced against the table.
Head down.
Breathing slow.
Measured.
If I lose control now—
We lose her.
And that’s not happening.
“She didn’t just disappear,” Cal says.
“She was taken.”
My jaw tightens.
“I know.”
Ronan leans back in his chair.
Arms crossed.
Watching everything.
Missing nothing.
“They moved fast,” he says.
“Clean extraction. No digital footprint.”
That narrows it down.
“Ford,” I say.
Ethan nods.
“We’re pulling everything we can on him.”
Jonah steps closer to the table.
Points to a map.
“These are known black sites within a two-hour radius,” he says.
“Off-books. No oversight.”
