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I suck in a breath, stunned—not just that she saw straight through me, but that she used the wordfriends. “How could you?—”

She lifts her hands, eyes closing as she exhales hard. “But in this case, I actually think you could pull it off. So I’m going to talk to Caleb and Silas.”

She turns toward the door, then pauses and looks back. “But I want you to promise me something, okay?”

I swallow hard and nod, unsure what’s coming.

“If things go sideways, call on God. Got it?”

I don’t argue. I don’t push back. I just give her a shaky smile. “Got it.”

She frowns, backing away slowly, leaving me alone in the shabby kitchen—and taking what little confidence I had in this insane plan right out the door with her.

Mick

Caleb presses a finger to his comms earpiece, lifting one side so he can hear me. “We’ve got a signal. Receiving loud and clear.”

I blow out a prayer of thanks. “What are they saying?”

His brow tightens. “Arabic. I don’t have the dialect for it.”

Jake steps forward. “We need Delilah’s translator running. I’ll call her.”

Caleb nods. “Tell her to patch into the feed from the bug we planted. We’ll need onscreen transcription.”

Jake already has his phone out. “She’s on it. But she says there’ll be a delay—and it won’t be perfect.”

“How long?” I ask.

Jake shrugs. “Depends how fast they talk. Plus, dialect makes it tricky. A human translator would be safer. AI’s not perfect—might mix up words with multiple meanings.”

I wince. A mistranslation at the wrong moment could get us all killed.

“Can’t we loop in someone who speaks it?”

Caleb shakes his head. “Not with the window we’ve got. Verity and Reese are already parked and standing by. Jammer’s prepped but not active yet.”

Jake’s phone buzzes. He looks up. “We’ve got access. Check the live link. First translation’s coming through now.”

Caleb taps away at the laptop. “Got it. The text will appear on screen in around thirty seconds.”

My nerves crank even higher as I watch a green cursor blinking Matrix-style on a black screen. I’m half expecting “Wake up, Neo” to appear until the first sentence arrives unceremoniously, and it’s so disturbing I’m transported right back to the plane again.

“Your siblings, your grandchildren… All of us remain steadfast on your path, and we will not leave it until every last one of us is martyred, with God’s permission.”

Jake mutters, “What the heck is that?”

Caleb’s lips move as he rereads the words onscreen. His face blanches, and he clenches his fist. “Encouragement from home. Probably reading an email from his mother. Mothers think it’s an honor for their sons to die as martyrs.”

My stomach curls. “That’s sick.”

No one disagrees with me.

Behind us someone coughs, drawing our attention. It’s Adena, and her eyes are locked on me. “Samantha needs to talk to you,” she says.

“Tell her I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I say.

Adena shakes her head. “This can’t wait. She’s… upset.”