Chapter 165 Terms Of Fire

• The morning sun slanted through the windows of the safehouse, casting golden light over plans, maps, and half-drunk coffee cups scattered across the kitchen table. The air was thick with the scent of espresso and gunpowder. Bishop leaned back in his chair, a tablet in hand, while Decker fiddled with a combat knife beside his orange juice.
• "If we want out from under this storm, we need a better umbrella," Bishop said, flicking through the files they'd pulled from Talia's drive. "And that means using the person who brought the rain."
• Ellerei exhaled hard. She still had blood under her nails from the night before, and her knuckles ached from how tight she'd been clenching her fists. "Talia."