"I made the call."
The silence stretches between them. Tense. But not hostile.
Silas studies Jace for a long moment. Then he exhales slowly.
"How deep is he?" Silas asks.
"Deep enough to move freely," Jace says. "But not so deep he can't extract if it goes sideways."
"He's solid."
Silas nods once. Sharp. Decisive.
"Good," he says.
Then his expression shifts. Harder.
"But next time—"
"Next time I'll have more than thirty seconds to brief you," Jace cuts in. His tone is firm. Respectful. But challenging.
"You would've made the same call."
Silas's mouth twitches. Almost a smile.
"Yeah," he admits. "I would've."
Jace's shoulders relax slightly.
"So, we are good?"
"We're good," Silas says. "But I want a full debrief on this guy before we move."
"Already prepped," Jace says. "Waiting in the war room."
I don't care about their debrief. I don't care about protocol or strategy or whatever the fuck they need to discuss.
I'm already pulling on shoes.
"Let's go," I say. My voice is hard. Determined.
"Let's go get her."
Silas turns to me. His expression shifts. Softens. But there's steel underneath.
"Absolutely not," he says.
I freeze.
"What?"
"You're still in no condition to leave and fight," he says. His voice is firm. Final.
"Me and my men will handle this."
I stare at him, disbelief flooding through me.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I snap, my voice rising.
