I run the partial plate through what access we still have, calling in threads we said we’d leave alone when we came here. They answer anyway. They always do.
It doesn’t take long.
“There,” I say, turning the screen. “Truck’s tied to a shell, but it’s been flagged before. Connected to a unit complex off the north access road.”
Finn straightens. “Then we go.”
Ryder doesn’t move yet.
Neither do I.
Because it isn’t that simple.
“He’ll expect that,” I say.
Finn’s jaw tightens. “I don’t care what he expects.”
“I do,” I answer, meeting his gaze. “Because he’s building the field we’re about to walk into.”
That lands.
Ryder’s attention shifts back to the map, but something else is moving underneath it now. I can see it in the set of his shoulders, the way his focus drifts half a step inward.
I’ve seen that before.
When everything breaks.
When he decides it traces back to him.
“I brought this here,” he says quietly. “I knew what Cole would do. I knew what he?—”
I step closer, enough to pull him out of it before it goes too far. “You don’t get to fall apart,” I interject. “Not while she’s out there.”
Ryder holds my gaze, a sharpness flickering there before it settles back into control.
“Blame yourself later,” I add. “Fix it now.”
The shift is immediate.
It doesn’t erase what he’s feeling, but it puts it where it belongs.
Later.
“Alright,” he says.
That’s enough.
I turn back to the screen, locking the plan into place.
“North access road,” I say. “Units are here. Limited entry points. He’ll have visibility on approach.”
Finn cracks his knuckles, tension rolling off him in waves. “Good. Then we hit it fast.”
“We go smart,” I correct. “Fast comes after. When we get to her, we need to do it right.”
No one is getting hurt, not under my watch.
Least of all Aurora.
