Zubair felt the basin the way other men felt rain—the weight of it, the timing, the points where it would pool.
He'd mapped the yard twice in his head and once on paper, and the paper lived in his pocket now, warm with sweat and use. He kept his right hand on the pencil and his left on the glass until neither tool mattered because the bodies were in place.
"Lachlan—ridge two. Keep their heads down. Do not light anything unless the yard forces you," he said, flat.
"Copy," Lachlan answered, voice steady enough. "I'll keep it pretty."
"Elias—tail, clamp kit, bolt cutters, tape. We disable, not destroy."
"On you," Elias returned, already checking each piece with quick fingers.
"Alexei—west eyes. Count the chain teams. If they hook cages to tankers, we cut chain first."
"Understood," Alexei breathed.
Zubair didn't look at Sera; he felt her, the same way he felt the hum of his creature under his own ribs.
