I stare at him.
That… wasn’t a grab for the device.
That was—
“Containment,” Mila breathes beside me.
Yeah.
Exactly that.
Daniel turns back to us, chest rising, eyes sharp.
“No more time,” he says. “You want to live? You listen.”
Ethan doesn’t argue.
That’s new.
“Talk,” he snaps.
Daniel moves fast, grabbing a marker off the counter and dragging a rough layout across the wall—angles, entry points, kill zones.
“They’re running a sweep formation,” he says. “Two teams pushing front, one circling rear, one holding perimeter. They’re not here to breach—they’re here to collapse.”
Ronan steps in beside him, eyes tracking the layout.
“You’re sure?”
Daniel doesn’t even look at him.
“Positive.”
Outside—engines shift.
Movement changes.
I feel it before I see it.
“They’re repositioning,” I mutter.
Daniel nods once.
“Because they know you’re dug in,” he says. “Next move—they compress.”
My jaw tightens.
“They box us in.”
“Yes.”
Mila glances at me.
“Then we don’t stay boxed.”
That’s my girl.
Daniel’s eyes flick to her—approval this time.
