58. Jonah
Jonah
T he breach charge detonates hard enough the entire corridor shakes.
The steel door caves inward with a scream of twisted metal.
“Move!”
We flood through fast.
Weapons up.
Angles covered.
Training taking over before thought can catch up.
I clear left.
Empty.
Concrete walls.
Medical cart overturned near the far side.
No immediate threat.
“Right clear—”
My voice dies halfway through.
Because the right side isn’t empty.
Elizabeth.
My chest locks so hard breathing actually hurts.
She sits tied to a steel chair bolted directly into the floor beneath a single overhead light.
Too thin.
Way too pale.
Dark bruises shadow beneath her eyes.
Her wrists are raw where the restraints cut into her skin.
Jesus.
She looks fragile enough a strong wind could break her apart.
But alive.
God.
Alive.
“Sienna—”
Too late.
She’s already moving.
Fast enough panic flashes hard through my chest.
Straight across open ground.
No cover.
No hesitation.
“Sienna, wait!”
Then I see him.
Back corner.
Half-hidden in shadow beside the far wall.
Standing completely still.
No weapon raised.
No movement.
No reaction at all to the fact we just breached the room.
He just watches us.
Like he’s been expecting this exact moment.
Cold crawls instantly down my spine.
“Contact!”
My rifle snaps toward him automatically.
Still—
Nothing.
The guy doesn’t even flinch.
Not at the weapons pointed directly at him.
Not at the breach.
Not at the team surrounding the room.
Wrong.
Everything about this is wrong.
The silence inside the room suddenly feels heavier than the gunfight outside ever did.
Like we walked into something already waiting for us.