51. Jude
Jude
T he trap was already in motion.
We had cameras on the clearing, drones overhead, and River running silent ops from the van a mile out.
But to him , it looked like I was alone.
Just like he wanted.
I walked down the trail behind the house, slow, shoulders tense, eyes scanning the treeline.
I wore no gun.
No communication radio.
Nothing that looked like defense.
Just an old hoodie, jeans, and a thousand-yard stare I’d practiced in the mirror.
Let him think I was breaking.
Let him believe it.
I reached the clearing and stopped in the center.
Waited.
Breathed.
And then—movement.
Just a flicker, between the trees.
My heart pounded.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t flinch.
Let him come.
Let him think he was winning.
Because in exactly four minutes, Cyclone was going to light this entire place up.