KENDRICK POV
The map spread across the war room table was marked with red ink—routes, guard shifts, weaknesses. I didn’t just want to get in.
I wanted to ruin him.
Alpha Jonas Hound.
Every breath he took was borrowed time. Every heartbeat another offense. And when we were done? He wouldn’t have a body left to bury.
“We come in from the east,” I said, circling the forest line beside the Bloodhound Pack border with a sharp black pen. “Drop point is here—dense cover, three-minute run to the first checkpoint if we follow the creek. They won’t hear the chopper with the sound suppressor.”
Keegan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, chewing gum like this was just another Tuesday. “That’s assuming no one’s patrolling the airspace.”
I shot him a look. “That’s not an assumption. I checked.
