As the tension thickened in the room, Claire glanced at Anthony. His face was pale, and despite his brave front, she could see the fear and weariness etched into his features. His injuries had left him weak, but the weight of the situation bore down on him even more. She wanted to say something comforting, something to alleviate the tension, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she focused on the task at hand.
"Alright," Jake said, folding the map of the warehouse and tucking it into his jacket. "We move in fast and clean. No mistakes."
Mitchell, standing tall and composed, double-checked the weapons laid out on the table. "We'll need to cut the power to the warehouse first," he explained. "That'll buy us time before Clarke's men can regroup. We've got eyes on the east side, but there's no telling how many guards they'll have inside. Once we're in, we take the lieutenants down fast."
Claire nodded, absorbing the plan. "And if Clarke shows up?"
