That’s the problem. I really do know. And I don’t know when it happened. The bookstore door opens suddenly. I look up fast, already bracing. It’s Brooke. She steps inside quickly, scanning the room before focusing on me.
“Tessa,” she says. “Archer came through the southern line briefly. He didn’t stop.”
“Where is he now?”
“Northwest sector,” she says. “He’s tracking something.”
Of course he is. I press my fingers against the edge of the counter, grounding myself.
“Did he say anything?” I ask.
Brooke hesitates just slightly.
“He said to keep you here,” she replies.
I almost laugh at that. Almost.
“I’m already here,” I say.
That’s not what he meant. And we all know it. Another radio burst cuts through before anyone can say anything else.
“Northwest movement confirmed—Archer engaged with hostile target.”
My breath catches. Delilah immediately moves closer to the radio unit.
“Conrad, confirm Archer status.”
Static.
Then: “He’s engaging with single rogues as he searches for Damon.”
Brooke stiffens slightly.
“He’s close. He’s making Archer fight through some expendables first,” she says under her breath.
I don’t like the way that sounds. Like inevitability. Like collision. My phone buzzes again. Another update. This time from an internal patrol line.
“Rogue movement shifting eastward—suggesting withdrawal pattern.”
Delilah reads it aloud. “They’re pulling back?”
I shake my head immediately. “No.”
It doesn’t feel right. Nothing about this feels like retreat. It feels like repositioning. Like pieces moving off a board. I grab my notebook and start marking intersections. Northwest engagement. Eastern withdrawal. Southern stabilization. It forms a shape I don’t like. A funnel.
Or worse. A distraction.
“Archer’s too far out,” I say quietly.
Brooke looks at me. “He knows what he’s doing.”
“I know,” I reply automatically.
But it doesn’t ease anything. Because knowing and controlling are two very different things. The radio crackles again.
“Conrad to all units—Archer has confirmed Felix Navarro is being contained. Possible intel retrieval in progress.”
Contained. That word makes my skin crawl. Not because it’s wrong. Because it sounds too final. Too neat. Too controlled for something that never feels controlled.
