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He hadn’t called them.

He didn’t need to.

Malek already had.

Silence settled over the cabin as we drove to the coordinates. We slowed long before we reached the park. Rafe never drove straight into an objective. Not anymore.

The black SUV rolled to a stop two hundred feet short. Behind us, the Bronco settled in. Another black Ranger slid into position on our left A dark Land Cruiser closed the gap behind it.

Four vehicles.

One formation.

The engines died.

Silence followed.

Doors opened almost together.

Six men stepped out.

There was no shouting.

No introductions.

No hesitation.

Weapons stayed low.

Eyes moving.

I didn’t have to look. I already knew where each of them would go.

“Ghost,” I murmured.

He didn’t even acknowledge, just disappeared into the treeline without a word.

“Viper.”

He was already moving toward the playground.

“Brick.”

He turned and crossed for the carpark.

“Falcon.”

He was already moving fast and halfway up the rise before I’d even finished speaking.

“Knox.”

He was the only one who turned. Met my gaze. Gave a slow nod. Then turned around watching our rear like it was just another mission. Rafe didn’t repeat the orders. He didn’t need to.

Neither did I.

I looked beyond them.

Toward the old oak.