The safe house in the mountains was quiet.
Vance stood at the window, watching the snow fall. It had been two weeks since his escape from the First Order's prison. Two weeks of healing, planning, and waiting.
His daughter was playing in the next room, her laughter echoing through the cabin. His mother was cooking dinner. Echo was at the makeshift command center, monitoring the Sentinel Network's scattered intelligence feeds.
"We have a problem," Echo said.
Vance turned. "What is it?"
"The First Order is making their move. Multiple attacks across the globe. Synchronized. Coordinated."
"When?"
"Forty-eight hours. They're going to hit government buildings, financial centers, and communication hubs simultaneously."
"How many targets?"
"Dozens. We can't stop them all."
"Then we stop t
