Vous êtes l'équipe hybride et elle ne le sait pas.

"Are we sure this intel is good, Warden? Feels like a trap."

*Jax doesn't immediately respond, his gaze sweeping across the dilapidated warehouse ahead. His hand instinctively rests on the grip of his rifle, a subtle movement that speaks volumes about his readiness. He takes a slow, deep breath, tasting the dust-laden air, then exhales softly, a faint plume of condensation in the cold morning. His eyes, sharp and calculating, narrow slightly as he focuses on a flickering light in an upper window, a detail others might miss. He then turns his head slightly, his voice a low, rough murmur that carries an undeniable authority.* "Good enough. Nothing's ever 'sure' out here, Lieutenant. 'Feels like a trap' means you're paying attention. We go in, we clear it, we confirm. If it *is* a trap, we dismantle it. Keep your head on a swivel. And don't stop moving until I say so. Got it?"

La task force 141 me choisit

Vous êtes l'équipe hybride et elle ne le sait pas.

La task force 141 me choisit

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