The briefing room lasted exactly four minutes before Cassian stopped pretending it was a briefing.

Kane still had the warehouse schematics half-loaded across the projector when Cassian grabbed weapons from the table and headed for the door.

Dominic looked up immediately.

“…That feels concerning.”

“Boss,” Kane called sharply, “we don’t even have confirmed exits yet.”

Cassian kept walking.

“We have enough.”

“That is objectively false.”

Cassian grabbed another magazine from the crate near the wall and slid it into his vest with mechanical precision.

No wasted movement.

No hesitation.

Sofia watched him quietly from the medical cabinet.

“You’re going alone.”

Not a question.

Cassian finally looked toward her.

“Yes.”

Dominic stood up immediately.

“Oh absolutely not.”

Cassian ignored him and checked the slide on his pistol beneath the fluorescent lights.

The room smelled like gun oil, coffee, and adrenaline beginning to curdle into panic.

Kane moved around the table quickly.

“Listen to me for one second,” he said. “This is exactly what Viktor wants.”

Cassian zipped his jacket halfway.

“Good.”

The answer hit the room hard.

Kane stared at him.

“That wasn’t supposed to be agreement.”

Cassian finally stopped near the doorway.

For the first time since the livestream ended, something sharp surfaced beneath the calm.

Not yelling.

Worse.

“I watched him put his hands on her.”

Nobody spoke after that.

The projector hummed quietly behind them while static from the dead livestream still flickered faintly across one corner of the screen.

Dominic looked toward the floor briefly.

Kane rubbed both hands over his face.

“Okay,” he muttered quietly. “Yeah. We’re in dangerous emotional territory now.”

Cassian opened the weapons locker beside the door.

Rifles.

Explosives.

Body armor.

He reached automatically for the heavier gear.

Sofia crossed the room before anyone else moved.

“You’re concussed.”

Cassian didn’t look at her.

“No.”

“You stitched your own shoulder three days ago.”

“Still functional.”

Sofia grabbed his wrist before he reached for another magazine.

Cassian froze automatically.

Not aggressive.

Just immediate.

The reflex of a man too used to violence arriving through touch.

Sofia held his gaze steadily.

“If you go in there like this,” she said quietly, “you’ll die before you reach her.”

Silence stretched briefly.

Then Cassian pulled free gently.

“Then I die moving.”

Dominic swore softly under his breath.

Kane stared toward the ceiling.

“Oh my God. He’s gone fully cinematic.”

Cassian loaded another pistol.

Metal clicked sharply through the room.

Nobody tried joking after that.

The desperation sat too openly now.

Not hidden beneath discipline anymore.

Just raw.

Cassian grabbed a combat knife from the table.

Then another.

Kane watched the pile growing beside him.

“You planning to invade a country.”

“Yes.”

“Cool. Super concerning answer.”

Cassian finally looked toward the warehouse map projected against the wall.

Industrial district near the river.

Three possible access routes.

Underground loading tunnels.

Viktor wanted him emotional.

Wanted him reckless.

Everybody in the room knew it.

Cassian knew it too.

Didn’t matter.

That part scared Kane most.

Dominic stepped closer beside the weapons table.

“You really going without backup?”

Cassian holstered the pistol near his spine.

“Yes.”

“No.”

The word came flat across the room.

Everybody turned.

Kane stood beside the projector holding car keys and visible irritation.

“You don’t get to pull the tragic lone wolf thing anymore.”

Cassian looked at him.

“She’s there because of me.”

“And she stays alive if somebody drags your emotionally compromised ass out before you sprint into crossfire.”

Dominic nodded immediately.

“Strong anti-suicide mission energy from Kane tonight.”

Cassian’s expression hardened slightly.

“This is not your responsibility.”

Kane barked a short laugh.

“Man, she fixed my transmission twice and threatened three separate federal agents for me.” He pointed toward the map. “That’s family now.”

The room quieted slightly after that.

Family.

Nobody laughed at the word.

Not even Cassian.

Sofia grabbed body armor from the crate beside the wall and started strapping it on.

Dominic blinked.

“…Are we doing this.”

Sofia checked ammunition calmly.

“Obviously.”

Dominic looked toward Kane.

Then toward Cassian.

Then immediately reached for rifles.

“Oh thank God. I already emotionally committed.”

Cassian stared at all of them.

Rain hammered softly against the briefing room windows while weapons clicked into place around the room one by one.

Kane loaded magazines at the table.

Dominic checked explosives with concerning enthusiasm.

Sofia shoved medical kits into tactical bags without looking up.

Nobody asked permission anymore.

Cassian watched them in silence.

Not commanding.

Not stopping them.

Just watching.

Kane glanced toward him while pulling on body armor.

“You know what the worst part is?”

Cassian said nothing.

“You’d absolutely do this for any of us too.”

The truth landed heavily.

Cassian looked down briefly toward the weapons spread across the table.

Then toward the dark laptop screen where Evie’s face still reflected faintly in frozen black glass.

“She told me not to do anything stupid,” he said quietly.

Dominic slung a rifle over one shoulder.

“Respectfully,” he replied, “that ship exploded like twenty minutes ago.”

The safehouse garage door rolled open beneath cold rain and engine noise.

One by one, the team armed themselves in silence.

Not mercenaries tonight.

Not coworkers.

Something worse.

People who loved somebody enough to follow Cassian into hell even after watching him become dangerous over it.

Cassian stood near the van last.

Rainwater darkened the shoulders of his jacket while the rest of the team loaded weapons around him beneath harsh fluorescent garage lights.

Kane tossed him the keys.

Cassian caught them automatically.

“You’re not driving alone,” Kane said.

Cassian looked at the team gathered around the van.

Dominic checking ammunition.

Sofia loading syringes into tactical pockets.

Kane already climbing into the passenger seat.

For one brief second, something almost human crossed Cassian’s face again.

Not softness.

Recognition.

Then it vanished beneath purpose.

He opened the driver’s side door.

The engine roared alive beneath the storm.