Thoren
“She’s what?” I growled, the words ripping out before Kael had even finished.
“Three hours late for extraction,” he repeated, jaw tense. “Her checkpoint was 0900. It’s now 1206.”
“And I’m just now hearing about it?”
“We give rookies a three-hour grace period,” he said calmly, as if that rule applied to her. “Standard protocol. Nine out of ten times they’re just off pace and roll in late. But her sergeant checked the extraction site and called it in the moment the window closed. I came straight to you.”
“She’s not just any f*****g rookie,” I snapped.
Kael didn’t flinch. “No, she’s not.”
The growl that left my throat wasn’t human.
“Send me her route,” I said. “All of it. Starting point. Coordinates. Topography.”
Kael nodded, already pulling up the digital map. “I’ll backtrack
