The van had been climbing through the mountains for three hours when Troy finally spoke.
He had been silent since they'd left the pier, his dark eyes fixed on the tablet Axel had given him, his fingers scrolling through the data cache with the mechanical precision of someone who was reading faster than most people could think. The others had learned to leave him alone when he was like this—his face blank, his body still, his mind racing through the vast archive of his perfect memory. Isla slept beside him, her head resting on a bundled-up coat, her breathing slow and steady. The rest of the team spoke in low murmurs about the intercept plan, the guard rotations, the weak points in the self-destruct protocol.
Elias had been talking for most of the journey, his voice low and steady, detail
