Tamir's eyes narrowed, but he didn't argue. He just nodded.
Jude left before sunrise. The path was jagged, overgrown, and slick with moss, but he moved through it like part of the land. By mid-afternoon, he reached the ridge that overlooked the signal's origin point. What he saw wasn't a camp or a shelter. It was a crash site.
A black stealth chopper, partially buried in the trees, its tail twisted and snapped. Smoke had long faded, but the impact was fresh. Jude descended cautiously. No guards. No movement. He reached the hull and slipped inside. The bodies were still warm. Four security personnel, two unarmed pilots. All had been executed post-crash. Shot clean in the head.
Jude found Mina in the cockpit, slumped over but alive. He checked her pulse, weak but steady. He carried her out, set up camp, started a fire, and waited until she woke.
When she did, she didn't scream. She sat up slowly, grimacing as pain spread through her ribs. She met his eyes and managed a weak smile.
