As the first hints of dawn break over the horizon, Joon-ho and I are already in place, huddled behind a clump of thick bushes that offer a decent cover with a clear line of sight to the camp. The drone, fully charged and ready, sits between us, its sleek metal body gleaming in the faint morning light. Today's mission feels different—there's a weight to it, a gravity that hadn't been there before. The air is thick with tension, and a sense of foreboding settles in the pit of my stomach.
I fiddle nervously with the note I've prepared, second-guessing my decision to reveal my potential role in this escalating situation. "I'm going to tell her," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, more to convince myself than to inform Joon-ho. "It might be the only way to prevent an attack." My hands tremble slightly as I hold the small piece of paper, the words I've written seeming to burn into my skin.
