60. Jonah
Jonah
T he sound snaps through the room like a blade sliding from a sheath.
Metal.
Multiple safeties clicking off.
Every muscle in my body locks instantly.
“Down!” I bark.
I move before the word fully leaves my mouth.
One arm hooks around Sienna’s waist hard enough to pull her backward off the floor as I pivot between her and the threat—
Gun up.
Target acquired.
The man in the shadows finally moves.
Slowly.
Too calmly.
Both hands visible at his sides.
No panic.
No fear.
Like he already knows how this ends.
“Don’t,” he says quietly.
Lance shifts right beside me, rifle trained center mass.
“On your knees,” Lance snaps.
The man doesn’t move.
Behind me, Elizabeth gasps weakly as Sienna catches her before she slips sideways in the chair.
“It’s okay,” Sienna whispers frantically. “It’s okay—we’ve got you—”
But her voice shakes.
Because she feels it too.
Something about this room is wrong.
Way too wrong.
Cal moves toward the far wall, checking corners.
“Clear secondary,” he says sharply.
No exits.
No windows.
No visible explosives.
Yet the hair on the back of my neck stands up anyway.
The stranger finally looks directly at me.
Older than I expected.
Maybe late fifties.
Gray threaded through dark hair.
Clean clothes.
No signs of abuse.
Not military.
Not cartel.
Not hired muscle.
Worse.
His eyes settle briefly on Sienna.
Then Elizabeth.
Something almost unreadable passes across his face.
Regret maybe.
Or guilt.
Then it disappears.
“You’re too late,” he says.
Ice slides straight through my chest.
“Shut him up,” Lance growls.
But I step forward first.
“Who are you?”
The man studies me for a second too long.
Then—
“Ask her.”
His gaze shifts toward Elizabeth.
Sienna stiffens instantly beside the chair.
“No,” she whispers.
Elizabeth’s breathing turns ragged.
Terrified.
Not of us.
Of him.
The realization hits hard enough my grip tightens on my rifle.
Jesus Christ.
She knows him.
“Elizabeth,” Sienna says softly, kneeling beside her again. “Hey… look at me.”
Elizabeth’s eyes flicker toward Sienna slowly.
Tears gather instantly.
Her cracked lips part.
“Don’t…” she whispers weakly.
The word barely reaches us.
Sienna leans closer.
“What?”
Elizabeth’s eyes lock onto the man standing in the corner.
Pure fear floods her face.
“Don’t let him near ORACLE.”
The room goes dead silent.
Cal stops moving.
Lance curses under his breath.
And my stomach drops.
Because the stranger doesn’t deny it.
Doesn’t even blink.
Instead—
He smiles.
Small.
Tired.
Like a man watching a fire finally reach the part of the building he warned everyone about.
“I told them this would happen,” he says quietly.
My pulse pounds harder.
“Who are you?” I demand again.
This time he answers.
“My name is Dr. Adrian Vale.”
Sienna freezes.
Completely.
Every bit of color drains from her face as she slowly rises from beside Elizabeth’s chair.
“No,” she whispers again.
Not disbelief.
Recognition.
Horror.
I glance between them.
“You know him?”
Sienna stares at the man like she’s seeing a ghost.
Her breathing turns shallow.
“He’s dead.”
Dr. Vale tilts his head slightly.
“That,” he says softly, “was the idea.”
Then every light in the room dies at once.
Darkness slams down around us.
And somewhere deep inside the compound—
A siren starts screaming.