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Unmarked.

Unescorted.

Just one vehicle.

Because Malenkov believes Jonah is already broken. What he doesn’t know is Jonah will never be broken.

I whisper it aloud. “You’re wrong.”

I tag the location and send apartialpacket to Ronan—enough to slow him, not enough to pull him in too fast.

Then I keep digging.

Because Malenkov doesn’t move men without redundancy.

I find the fallback.

A subterranean holding chamber—temporary. Mobile restraints. Short-term isolation.

If Ronan misses the convoy…

That’s where Jonah goes next.

I feel the weight of it settle in my chest.

This isn’t research anymore.

This is timing.

I finally open the secure channel.

“Ronan,” I say calmly. “He’s moving Jonah. Not fast. Quiet. Rail-adjacent.”

Silence.

Then, sharp: “How sure?”

“Eighty-seven percent,” I answer. “Ninety-five if he thinks Jonah is already spent.”

A pause.

“That’s not enough for you,” he says quietly.

“No,” I agree. “But it’s enough to move.”

Another beat.

“You didn’t wait,” he says—not angry. Acknowledging.

“I couldn’t,” I reply. “You were almost pulled into a trap. This keeps you out of it.”

I hear him breathe. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Send me everything,” he says.

“I will,” I answer. “But Ronan—”

“Yes?”