56. Ronan
Ronan
J onah’s slowing down.
Most people wouldn’t notice it yet.
I do.
The way he’s compensating when he turns.
The split-second delay before he re-centers his weapon.
The way he’s holding his left side tighter every minute.
He’s running out of gas.
“Jonah,” I bark. “Back two steps.”
“I’m fine—”
“Do it.”
The look he shoots me could strip paint off concrete.
Still.
He falls back.
Barely.
But he listens.
Good.
I move past him immediately and cover centerline just as movement erupts through the left-side entrance.
Three operatives.
Fast push.
Weapons up.
Too late.
I fire twice.
First hostile drops instantly.
Second tries diving for cover.
Lance catches him mid-movement.
Third gets one round off before Cal puts him through the wall.
Silence crashes into the generator room afterward.
Short.
Fragile.
Temporary.
Jonah stares at me from behind partial cover, breathing harder than he should be.
“You’ve been holding out.”
“Focus,” I snap immediately.
Because if he starts thinking about how bad he’s hurt—
We’ve got bigger problems than HELIOS.