The air in the small hideout was thick with unease. The only light came from the laptop screen in front of Calvin, casting a cold glow on his hardened features as he scrolled through the files on Damien’s stolen USB. Lines of encrypted text and surveillance footage flickered on screen—evidence, plans, death.
Calvin’s jaw clenched as his eyes stopped on a series of red-highlighted folders.
“Everyone,” he called out, not looking away. “Get in here. Now.”
Petra was the first to step in, her arms crossed as she leaned against the far wall, silently observant. Gary ambled over, dropping down on the worn, sagging couch with a grunt, the springs creaking beneath him. Quinn and Sasha entered last, side by side. Sasha’s gait was slower, still favoring her healing injuries, though her expression—
