Page 82 of Tag (The Golden Team #9)

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T he ops room was lit up like a command post in the middle of a war zone—screens glowing, communication chatter bleeding through the speakers, Faron leaning over the central table with that tight, focused look he got when things were about to turn ugly.

He didn’t look up when we came in. “Graves’ crew is on the move. Four vehicles, heavy loadout. No attempt to hide.”

“Heading where?” I asked.

Gideon tapped the map, a red line snaking across the screen. “Here—Bastion Point. Abandoned rail yard. No civilians in a two-mile radius.”

I frowned. “Too open for a stash. Too exposed for a meet.”

Aponi stepped closer, scanning the map. “It’s a lure. He wants us to follow.”

Faron finally looked up. “Intel suggests they’re moving something big. Or someone. Could be leverage.”

I didn’t miss the flicker in Aponi’s eyes—she was thinking the same thing I was. Graves had been throwing decoys at us for days. This one felt different.

“What’s the play?” Gideon asked.

I weighed it fast. “If it’s a trap, we spring it on our terms. Get eyes in the sky, flank teams in place, and a clean exit route. We don’t walk straight in.”

Aponi’s voice was calm but certain. “If we wait too long, whatever’s in those trucks is gone.”

I met her gaze. “And if we rush it, we could be handing Graves exactly what he wants.”

She didn’t back down. “Then we make it something he doesn’t want.”

For a long moment, it was just the two of us staring each other down over the map. Then I turned to Gideon. “Gear up, both teams. We move in twenty.”

Aponi’s hand brushed mine as we stepped back from the table—a small, quick touch no one else would notice, but enough to ground me in the middle of the noise.

This wasn’t just about catching Graves anymore. We had Graves; he was locked up tight. But he was still running the show.

This was about making sure he never got that close to her again.