“Please, everyone draw in quickly,” Ciro says, locking the basement door before taking his place at the center of the room. He motions for Barend to set the duffel bags at his feet, and for all of us to line up around him.

“There’s a five-minute window before the Common Guard will have the entire city perimeter sealed and the mission’s secrecy will be at great risk. If you’re going to get out, you must go now.”

Ciro didn’t say we. He’s not coming with us either.

Does Barend know?

Judging by his shell-shocked face, no. While Mira translates what’s happening to Lucía, Barend steps out of line. He tries to keep his testy voice low, private, but we’re twelve bodies packed into a small basement; there is no privacy.

“I couldn’t make you remain in Alberta, no matter what I did, and now you volunteer to stay behind. Why?”

Ciro places his steady hand inside Barend’s.

“We both know I’m no fighter—my talents lie elsewhere,” Ciro hastily explains. “Attacks like this will continue, and Emery will need my help stabilizing the chaos. While she’s away, my place is in Dallas.”

Barend shakes his head, clearly loath to separate, but before he can argue, Ciro presses, “When your mission is successful, you’ll need a country to return to.” He smiles, lifting their linked hands up to his heart. “I’ll be here, ‘holding down the fort,’ as they like to say here in Texas,” Ciro jokes, attempting to defuse Barend’s worry, but it’s clear his decision to stay remains firm.

With a reluctant nod, Barend appears to accept Ciro’s choice, but he doesn’t fall back into line. He remains close by his partner’s side while Ciro unzips the first duffel bag.

“I hope most of you know, I would never let any team of mine leave for such an important mission without top quality supplies,” Ciro says, inviting us to come claim his offerings. “Everything you’ll need is in these bags—food, the latest weaponry, state-of-the-art desert apparel and boots, translator devices, night vision goggles, and non-tech navigational tools.”

Kano lets out an elongated whistle. Skye steps forward to take a closer look. One corner of her mouth quirks up, impressed.

“Where’d you get all this stuff?” Owen asks in wonderment, not fully understanding who exactly he’s talking to. Owen wasn’t there at the Common’s headquarters in Alberta before we left on our original missions. He didn’t get to see Ciro’s impressive Offering Room.

“Ciro can get ahold of anything,” I tell Owen.

Then Ciro reaches out to clasp my sister’s shoulder. “Mira, as I am no longer a member of your mission, when you find our friend Theo, he can happily have my gear.” He places a charcoal-gray field uniform—a garment I know must be as advanced as the Blackout Wear he supplied last time—into her hands. “I believe we are about the same size.”

Gratitude washes over Mira’s face. She places her hand over Ciro’s, and it’s clear Barend isn’t the only one who will miss him. Battle bonds.

Boom! The basement shudders from another explosion in the streets above.

“Let’s move out!” Haven says, zipping up one of the bags and throwing it across her shoulders.

“Ciro, please tell Emery . . . just tell her I had to,” I say hurriedly. She’ll be angry, but deep down, I know she will understand.

Act first, apologize later. My new mantra.

I feel a pang of guilt for leaving, but my unbridled energy is best served out in the field, giving full rein to Emery and the Elders to shepherd the country into the future. The last thing Emery needs is more distractions like my pyro outburst, which truthfully would have been just the beginning if I was forced to stay put.

“I will, but you can tell her yourself when you return,” Ciro says.

If I return. I squeeze his shoulder, the Common’s farewell.

“Alexander, grab our duffel bag; Blaise and I will fetch the Whiz,” Owen calls out from the corner, hauling away large cheese wheels to release the docile kid.

But I see Alexander hesitate. Is he backing out of the mission too?

Coward. Owen needs him more than Emery does.

Then Alexander surprises everyone by approaching Mira.

“I’m going to Mexico,” he declares without asking. “If this is truly the last chance to find my son, your team will need a seasoned adult as leader.”

That role is already filled by Haven, but Mira springs to our aunt’s defense first.

“Your leadership didn’t help your dozen other search missions,” she snaps.

But we can’t physically stop Alexander from coming with us. If he follows, he follows.

Mira and Lucía glare daggers at Alexander, but there’s no time to protest further. Another boom! boom! rattles us all back to the task at hand.

We need to get out of here, now.

Owen and I lock eyes, hovering by the stairs, as the rest of the team files out of the basement.

“Will your mission be okay with just you and Blaise?” I ask. For the first time I feel myself worry for someone the way I do about my sister. A taste of what Mira’s been feeling for the last three weeks without Theo.

Owen flashes me one of his confident smiles, a bulky duffel bag strapped across his chest. “We’re the two best black-hat hackers in cybercrime, and the heads of the Cybersecurity Team . . . Those servers don’t stand a chance.”

He holds my gaze, his golden eyes as deep and forbidden as my favorite Black Market whisky.

“Ava, let’s move,” Mira says urgently.

I think about pressing Owen’s lips to mine—it might be my last chance—but I stop myself, and pull back. My heart must remain hard. I can’t allow emotions to weaken me on the mission I’m committed to seeing through until the end.

“See you soon,” Owen says, squeezing my hand.

“See you soon,” I say, pressing back.

We climb the basement stairs two at a time, and then break apart to join our separate teams. As I race down the crowded hallway beside Mira, I don’t look back.

Divide, and conquer Roth. One of our missions will succeed.

“I told Blaise we had to trade vehicles—Duke is too small to fit us all with our new additions,” Mira updates me as we burst out the side door of the warehouse.

Pandemonium hits me like a sharp punch to the face.

Everything is a blur around me—the smoke-filled sky, the blown-out buildings, the frantic people running in the streets, the unmoving bodies lying on the ground—all sound is one loud static whir.

My head spins, swirling my thoughts into doubt.

Are we wrong to run from this fight? Do I really have tunnel vision for one man like Emery said, blinded by personal vendetta?

I’m snapped back to my senses when I feel the cool weight of a gun pressed into my hand.

“Ava, did you hear me?” Mira says.

We’ve somehow already made it to the Guard SUV, and Mira’s holding open the driver’s side door. The whole team waits for me inside.

My sister looks at me, steady.

“Are you ready for this?” she repeats. The same question I asked her two months ago, right before we stole onto a railcar and barreled into the unknown.

Clarity washes over me. No, we’re not running. We’re making moves for the future. Ciro’s right. These attacks will keep happening across the country as long as Roth is still alive.