12. Jonah
Jonah
T he quiet lasts five minutes.
That’s it.
Five damn minutes before the mountain changes again.
I feel it before I understand it.
The wind shifts through the ravine, carrying something wrong with it. Not sound. Not movement.
Absence.
Too still.
Every instinct I have sharpens instantly.
I’m already pushing to my feet when Ronan’s voice crackles softly through comms from above.
“You hear that?”
I glance toward the ridge.
“I don’t hear anything.”
“That’s the problem.”
Yeah.
Exactly.
Beside me, Sienna looks up immediately. I see the moment she feels it too—her posture tightening, attention snapping outward toward the ridgeline.
Good.
She’s learning how we work.
Or maybe she already knew.
I reach for her hand without thinking.
This time she takes it instantly.
No hesitation.
No argument.
“Up,” I say.
She’s moving before the word fully leaves my mouth.
Faster now.
More connected to our rhythm.
We gather our gear and push deeper into the ravine while shadows stretch across the stone walls around us.
“Trail’s still clean,” Ronan says through comms.
“For now,” I answer.
Nothing stays clean during a hunt like this.
Not with HELIOS.
We move fast through the narrow cut in the mountain, boots scraping across wet stone while the ravine twists tighter around us.
Sienna stays beside me easily now.
No stumbling.
No fighting her pace.
She adapted faster than most trained operators I know.
That matters.
A lot.
Suddenly she slows slightly beside me.
“We need to change direction.”
“No.”
“We do.”
I glance toward her.
She isn’t guessing.
I know the difference now.
This is calculation.
“What do you see?”
“They’re not tracking our route.”
Movement drops from the ridge above us a second later.
Ronan lands silently beside the ravine wall, rifle already scanning.
“Nothing behind us,” he says. “No thermal signatures either.”
Sienna nods once.
“Because they aren’t chasing us.”
Something cold settles in my chest.
My grip tightens slightly around her hand.
“Then what are they doing?”
Her eyes meet mine.
Steady.
Certain.
“They’re predicting you.”
Ronan lets out a low curse. “That’s not possible.”
“It is if they’ve got enough behavioral data,” she snaps immediately. “Movement patterns. Tactical response logic. Decision trees.”
I don’t like where this conversation’s going.
“You’re saying they know what I’ll do before I do it.”
“I’m saying they can model probability.”
“Close enough.”
Sienna exhales sharply, frustration bleeding through her voice now.
“You need to stop thinking like yourself.”
A humorless laugh almost leaves me.
“Yeah? And start thinking like what?”
Her voice drops quieter.
“Like someone willing to sacrifice people to win.”
Silence hits hard between us.
Because she’s not wrong.
And she knows I know it.
“I’m not doing that,” I say.
“Then they’ll keep cornering us.”
“Or we break the pattern another way.”
Her frustration spikes immediately.
“You can’t outmaneuver something that already understands your moves!”
“Watch me.”
That stops her cold for half a second.
Not because she agrees.
Because some part of her thinks maybe I can.
Ronan steps between us before the tension escalates further.
“We need a play,” he says. “Now.”
I look at Sienna.
She looks back.
Everything tightens between us in that moment.
Trust.
Fear.
Something else building underneath both.
“You said they’re predicting me,” I say.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Her brows pull together immediately.
“That’s not good.”
“Then we give them something to predict.”
Ronan studies me for a second. “You’re baiting them.”
“Yeah.”
Sienna’s expression hardens instantly.
“No. Absolutely not.”
I step closer to her.
Lower my voice.
“Listen to me.”
“They’ll kill you,” she whispers.
“Not if you’re right.”
That freezes her.
I see the exact second her brain starts recalculating possibilities.
“You said you can reroute signals,” I continue. “Redirect movement patterns.”
“Yes, but—”
“Then we combine it.”
Her eyes narrow slightly.
Mind already moving too fast.
Dangerous fast.
“You pull their attention one direction,” I say. “I move another.”
“No.”
Immediate.
Flat refusal.
Not tactical disagreement.
Fear.
Real fear.
“We don’t have another option,” I say quietly.
“There’s always another option.”
“Not one that keeps all of us breathing.”
That lands.
Hard.
Sienna’s jaw tightens while anger and panic war silently behind her eyes.
“You said you trust me.”
“I do.”
“Then trust me when I say this plan is bad.”
I hold her gaze steadily.
And this—
This feels like the moment everything shifts one way or another.
“Then give me a better one,” I say.
Silence.
Ronan watches both of us carefully without interrupting.
Because he sees it too.
This stopped being just strategy somewhere back in that ravine.
Finally, Sienna exhales sharply.
“I need access.”
My stomach tightens instantly.
“To what?”
“ORACLE.”
Everything inside me goes still.
“No.”
Her eyes flash.
“You just said—”
“I said I trust you,” I cut in. “I’m not handing you back to them.”
“I’m not going back to them.” Her voice rises sharper now. “I’m going deeper than they can reach.”
“That’s not a risk I’m taking.”
“It’s not your decision!”
“It is when it gets you killed.”
“It might be the only way to stop them!”
The ravine goes dead silent around us.
Wind whistles softly somewhere overhead.
Neither of us moves.
Then Sienna steps directly into my space.
Close enough I feel the heat coming off her despite the cold mountain air.
“You don’t get to save me if it costs everything else,” she says quietly.
“And you don’t get to throw yourself away like you don’t matter.”
That hits.
I see it immediately.
Her voice softens when she speaks again.
More dangerous somehow.
“I’m already part of it, Jonah.”
I don’t step back.
Don’t give an inch.
“Then we pull you out.”
“You might not be able to.”
“Then I’ll die trying.”
That breaks something between us.
Not badly.
Honestly.
Her breath catches softly.
For the first time since I met her—
She has no response ready.
She just looks at me.
Like she found something she never expected to exist.
“Why?” she asks finally.
Quiet.
Raw enough to hurt.
I don’t hesitate.
“Because you’re not a system.”
The words settle hard between us.
“You’re not a mission.”
Another step closer.
“You’re not expendable.”
Her composure slips again.
More visibly this time.
And I don’t miss any of it.
I close the last inch between us.
“You’re mine to protect,” I say quietly.
Certain.
Steady.
“And I don’t lose what’s mine.”
Silence.
Then—
Ronan clears his throat loudly from a few feet away.
“Not to interrupt whatever this is…”
We both turn immediately.
Back in mission mode.
But nothing feels the same now.
“Drone inbound,” Ronan says. “Two this time.”
Sienna exhales once, sharp and controlled as focus snaps back into place.
“Then we’re out of time.”
I nod once.
“Then give me the play.”
She looks at me one last second.
Then finally—
“Fine,” she says quietly. “We do it your way.”
A pause.
“But if this goes bad…”
Her voice lowers.
Steadier now.
“I’m going into ORACLE.”
I hate hearing that.
Hate how real it sounds.
But I see the truth sitting behind her eyes.
That line she already crossed years ago.
“Then we don’t let it go bad,” I say.
For the first time all day, something soft almost touches her expression.
Almost a smile.
Yeah,” she whispers.
“Let’s try that.”