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Before I can say anything else, the descent bottoms out and Ruth throws us the other way.

My weight slams back into the seat as the G-load builds. Everything gets heavier at once, and even moving my arms takes more effort.

Colston grunts beside me. “Well. She didn’t seem to like me calling her out like that.”

I cut him a look, but he’s already back on the instruments.

“We’re still going up.”

I stay on them with him while we climb, waiting for the pressure to ease.

A few seconds later, it finally does.

Then my weight goes light again.

“Fuck.”

I breathe through my teeth and make another correction while Colston immediately starts calling our altitude and airspeed again.

Brian comes over the intercom. “Everybody good?”

The rest of the crew answers one by one.

Nobody’s hurt.

Thank fuck.

I roll my aching wrist before putting my hand right back where I need it because we’re still in the fucking eyewall.

Des leans closer to his radar display. “We’re getting close to the inner edge.”

I nod without taking my eyes off the instruments. The airplane is still responding to everything I ask from it, and right now, that’s all I need.

Lightning flashes across the windshield again, bright enough that I have to blink against it.

Beside me, one of Colston’s displays flickers.

His forehead creases as he taps the screen, then tries it again. “Shit.”

“What?” I ask.

“Mission link just dropped.”

I glance over while he starts checking the system. “Can you get it back?”

Colston looks over at me. “Negative.”

For a second, neither of us says anything.

Brian confirms it from behind us. “External transmission is down. Nothing’s getting out.”

For the first time since we hit the eyewall, my attention flips to Goldie.

Because I know what that means on the other end.

Goldie’s at home probably watching every piece of information she can get her hands on. If the public feed went down with ours, all she’s going to see is the track from our airplane stop somewhere inside the eyewall.

Fuck.