Page 67 of Hunted to Be Mine
The way he said operative scratched at me. A reminder of what I was.
“Just being thorough,” I said.
“We’re at a train station.” Selina leaned in, her fingers brushing mine under the table for a second. “Heading somewhere quieter.”
“How bad are your injuries?” Mattie asked, already in doctor mode.
Selina glanced at my bandages.
“Nothing fatal,” I said before she could answer.
“That’s not reassuring,” Mattie said. “Selina?”
“Three cracked ribs, shoulder laceration, contusions,” Selina told her. “I’ve been cleaning and changing dressings. No infection so far.”
“Good work, Doctor,” Mattie said. “Watch his ribs. If his breathing worsens—”
“I’m right here,” I cut in. “I can monitor my own injuries.”
Selina gave me a look. “Ignore him. He’s extra grumpy since Blackout tried to crush his chest.”
“Can we focus?” Damon said, businesslike. “We’ve got intel.”
The café noise thinned in my head. I straightened. “Go.”
“SENTINEL flagged unusual movement at three known Oblivion sites across Eastern Europe in the last twelve hours,” Damon said. “Sat images show convoys. Equipment being moved.”
“Dresner’s rattled,” I said, my hand inching toward Selina’s without thinking. I stopped halfway and pulled back.
“Exactly,” Damon said. “Something has him shifting assets.”
“What kind of equipment?” I asked.
“Hard to tell from above,” he said. “Big cargo trucks. Heavier security. Priority clearance through checkpoints.”
“Files,” I said. “Hard copies. Drives. Anything they can’t move over a network.”
“Could be,” Damon said.
Selina let her fingers skim my forearm, grounding me. “What about Croatia?” I asked. “Any movement in the mountains?”
He paused. “How did you know?”
“Lucky guess.”
“Yes,” he said. “Heavy activity. Multiple transports. They’re evacuating a facility.”
My muscles tightened. The Farm. The place from the nightmares. Where they broke me down and built something else.
“What’s the movement pattern?” I asked. “Destination?”
“The convoy’s splitting,” Damon said. “Half toward a storage site in Zagreb’s eastern district, half toward an industrial area onthe outskirts. It looked rushed. Security lighter than usual. It’s a holding pattern, not storage.”
“Which means they’ll move it again soon,” I said.
“Right. This is a pass-through.”
“We put eyes on both,” I said. “Especially the factory district.”
