27. Jonah
Jonah
T he bunker lights flicker once.
Then again.
Every instinct I have sharpens instantly.
Wrong.
The tactical monitor glitches sideways in a burst of static before the overhead lights dim hard enough to throw shadows across the concrete walls.
Then gunfire explodes outside.
Close.
Way too close.
Ronan’s rifle is in his hands before the second burst hits the perimeter.
“They found us.”
I’m already moving toward center position. “Too fast.”
Sienna rises from the chair immediately beside the equipment table.
“No.”
Her voice cuts sharply through the bunker.
“They didn’t find us.”
I look back at her.
Her face has gone pale again, eyes locked on the flickering tactical screen.
“They anticipated us.”
Cold settles hard in my stomach.
That’s worse.
Much worse.
“Positions,” I snap.
Ronan peels left instantly, disappearing toward the secondary corridor while I move centerline toward the reinforced entrance.
Another burst of gunfire slams into the outer concrete.
The bunker shakes slightly.
Then I notice Sienna moving behind me.
Too close.
“Stay down.”
“No.”
Of course not.
I glance back long enough to catch the stubborn set of her jaw.
“They’re targeting you now,” she says quietly.
“Good.”
Anger flashes immediately across her face.
“That’s not good.”
“It is if it keeps them off you.”
Her mouth opens like she wants to argue.
Then another burst of gunfire tears through the upper vent system and sparks rain across the bunker ceiling.
The argument dies unsaid.
Because she knows I’m right.
Ronan fires from the left corridor.
Two controlled shots.
One scream outside.
Then silence.
Brief.
Temporary.
“They’re adjusting mid-fight,” he shouts.
“Yeah,” I mutter, firing through the reinforced doorway as movement flashes outside the entrance. “I noticed.”
One hostile drops.
Another immediately changes approach angle instead of repeating the mistake.
Adaptive movement.
Predictive positioning.
ORACLE’s learning in real time.
A sharp crack splits the air beside me.
“Sienna!”
Her voice hits right as I drop instinctively.
A round punches into the concrete wall behind my head hard enough fragments spray across my shoulder.
Too damn close.
I pivot low behind cover and fire toward the upper ridge outside the entrance.
The sniper disappears backward.
“They’re adapting to your responses,” Sienna says behind me.
Breathing uneven now.
Fear creeping back into her voice despite how hard she fights it.
“Every move you repeat gives them more data.”
“Then we stop repeating.”
Gunfire erupts again outside.
Multiple entry points now.
They’re tightening.
Fast.
“How?” she asks.
I glance back at her.
And suddenly the answer feels obvious.
Not tactically.
Personally.
Because ORACLE expects isolation.
Predictable sacrifice patterns.
It expects me to protect her by pushing her away from danger.
It expects her to run.
I move toward her before I fully think it through.
“Sienna.”
Her eyes lock onto mine instantly.
I grab her hand.
Warm.
Shaking slightly.
Real.
Then I pull her forward beside me.
Into the fight instead of away from it.
Her breath catches sharply.
“Jonah—”
“We stay together.”
Understanding flashes across her face instantly.
Not because it’s safer.
Because it breaks the system.
Ronan glances over from the left corridor and barks out a rough laugh. “That is either incredibly romantic or incredibly stupid.”
“Probably both,” I mutter.
Another explosion slams somewhere above the bunker.
Dust shakes loose from the ceiling.
Sienna’s fingers tighten around mine.
Not fear this time.
Choice.
Then her eyes sharpen.
Focused again.
“Okay,” she whispers.
Not running anymore.
Not hiding.
Beside me.
Exactly where ORACLE never expected her to stand.