50. Sienna
Sienna
T he ops room hums with movement.
Screens flicker.
Maps redraw themselves in real time.
Coordinates pulse across satellite overlays while Cal runs data filters faster than most people can think.
The mission no longer feels theoretical.
Not planning.
Not hoping.
Moving.
Real.
And my chest feels too tight because of it.
Three and a half years.
That’s how long Elizabeth has been gone.
Three and a half years of wondering if she was alive.
Three and a half years of forcing myself not to hope too hard because hope hurt too much.
And now—
Now I might actually find her.
I step closer to the main screen again and pull the generator profile back onto the display.
“Run it against abandoned industrial zones within a three-hundred-mile radius.”
Cal doesn’t question me.
Doesn’t hesitate.
His fingers move instantly across the keyboard.
“Already cross-referencing power grid drop-offs and thermal anomalies.”
Good.
He thinks in patterns.
Makes this easier.
Lance leans over the adjacent monitor. “You’re assuming they haven’t relocated her recently.”
“They haven’t.”
His eyes cut toward me. “That’s confidence for a guess.”
“It’s not a guess.”
I pull Elizabeth’s video frame back up.
Freeze it beside the terrain maps.
“They’ve held her for years,” I say quietly. “That means structure. Routine. Environmental control.”
I zoom in on the shadow behind Elizabeth’s chair.
“No movement prep. No transitional noise. No transport indicators.”
Ronan folds his arms near the back wall.
“Meaning?”
“They trust the location.”
The room goes quieter after that.
Because if HELIOS feels safe enough to keep her stationary this long—
Then they think nobody can touch them there.
“That narrows it,” Lance mutters.
“Not enough,” Ronan says.
“Working on it,” Cal replies.
The map flashes.
Twenty-three red markers appear across the region.
Too many.
My pulse jumps instantly.
“Cut modern grid access.”
Dots disappear.
“Remove high-surveillance zones.”
More vanish.
“They won’t risk routine exposure.”
The map shrinks again.
“Now filter structural age. Minimum twenty years.”
Cal glances at me briefly.
“I want decay,” I say quietly.
“I want forgotten.”
Five markers remain.
The room stills.
Closer.
Not enough.
I step toward the screen until the glow washes across my face.
Study terrain angles.
Road access.
Isolation.
Escape routes.
Then one location catches hard in my chest.
“There.”
I point toward the bottom-right quadrant.
Remote.
Buried in dead infrastructure.
The kind of place nobody notices anymore.
Lance looks over. “Why that one?”
“Because it doesn’t fit.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“It is if you’re hiding something valuable.”
I zoom in further.
Satellite resolution sharpens slowly.
Collapsed structures.
Overgrowth.
And there—
A faint thermal bloom buried beneath the concrete.
Consistent.
Controlled.
My breath catches.
“That’s it.”
Cal studies the signature carefully.
“Could be.”
“No.”
I don’t look away from the screen.
“It is.”
Because I feel it.
Deep enough to hurt.
Behind me, movement shifts quietly through the room.
Slow.
Measured.
I already know who it is before he speaks.
“You shouldn’t be standing.”
Jonah’s voice comes rough behind me.
I close my eyes briefly.
Of course he’s here.
“You shouldn’t be planning a solo rescue,” he shoots back.
There it is.
I turn toward him slowly.
And my chest twists painfully at the sight.
He looks terrible.
Color drained from his face.
Movement tight with pain.
One hand braced subtly against the table like standing upright still costs him effort.
And still—
Still here.
“You’re not going.”
“Already decided I am.”
“Then you decided wrong.”
A beat passes.
Then Jonah steps closer.
Slowly.
Carefully.
But determined anyway.
“I’m not having this argument again.”
“You don’t get a vote.”
“I do when it’s about you.”
My jaw tightens instantly.
“This is about Elizabeth.”
“And you getting yourself killed trying to save her.”
“I won’t—”
“You almost already did.”
Silence snaps sharply between us.
Because he’s right.
God, I hate when he’s right.
“I can do this,” I say more quietly now.
“I know you can.”
No hesitation.
No doubt.
And somehow that certainty hurts worse than fear would.
“And that’s exactly why I’m going with you.”
I shake my head.
“You can barely stand.”
“Still standing.”
“You were bleeding out five days ago.”
“Still didn’t die.”
Frustration surges hot through my chest.
Fear too.
Something deeper underneath both.
“You are not expendable.”
His expression changes slightly at that.
Softens.
“Neither are you.”
The room goes still around us.
Then quieter—
“You don’t get to go alone.”
That one lands differently.
Not command.
Not stubbornness.
Truth.
I look away first because if I don’t—
I might give in too easily.
And I can’t afford easy anymore.
Cal suddenly clears his throat sharply from across the room.
“We’ve got movement.”
Everything snaps back into focus instantly.
“What kind of movement?”
He zooms tighter on the selected site.
Heat signatures flare across the underground structure.
More than before.
A lot more.
“They weren’t there ten minutes ago,” Lance says.
Cold settles heavily in my stomach.
“They’re reinforcing.”
Ronan straightens immediately. “Why now?”
Because they know.
Of course they know.
I feel the answer before I say it.
“They felt me inside ORACLE.”
The room stills completely.
“They know we’re coming.”
Jonah exhales beside me.
Slow.
Controlled.
“Then we stop waiting.”
I nod once.
Decision locking into place instantly.
Fast.
Clean.
Final.
“We move tonight.”
Silence follows.
Then agreement.
Absolute.
This stopped being a rescue mission the second HELIOS started preparing for war.
Now it’s a race.
Against ORACLE.
Against time.
Against whatever waits inside that facility.
I look back at the screen.
At the place Elizabeth has spent years trapped inside.
My chest tightens again.
But this time—
It sharpens instead of breaking me.
“They don’t get to keep her.”
My voice comes cold now.
Certain.
Deadly.
Jonah steps beside me close enough our shoulders brush.
Even injured.
Even exhausted.
Still there.
“Yeah,” he says quietly.
“They don’t.”