She looked like a quiet 34-year-old who wandered into the wrong gym, right up until she rolled up her sleeves and raised her hands.

Maya sat at her kitchen table, staring down at the four bound operatives on her floor.

She knew how this game worked. Once a contractor team failed to check in, Colonel Kovaks would send a secondary team—heavier, better armed, and authorized to use lethal force across the entire city.

She couldn't stay in Bridgeport.

And Coach Sal couldn't return to The Iron Vault.

"Sal," Maya said, turning to the old man. "You need to pack a bag and go to your sister's house in Indiana tonight. Do not go back to the gym. Do not answer your phone."

"I'm not running, Maya," Sal said fiercely, his hand clutching his old snub-nosed revolver. "I ran enough in '71. This is my city."

"This isn't your war, Sal!" Maya raised her voice for the first time, her dark eyes flashing with fierce, protective authority. "Kovaks isn't a street fighter or a gym bully! He commands two hundred active mercs with government-grade surveillance capabilities! If he finds you at the gym, he will burn it to the ground with everyone inside!"

Sal looked at her, his jaw working as he fought back his pride. Finally, he let out a long, heavy sigh, nodding slowly. "Alright. Indiana. But what about you?"

Maya picked up the tactical radio from the table, adjusting the frequency dial to the main encrypted channel recorded on Miller's chest pad.

She pressed the broadcast button.

"Kovaks," Maya spoke into the microphone, her voice steady, cold, and echoing across the quiet apartment.

A second of heavy static filled the line, followed by the crisp, refined voice of an older man speaking from a private office miles away.

"Vance," Colonel Kovaks replied smoothly through the speaker. "I see you haven't lost your touch. Miller's team was supposed to be discrete."

"You sent amateur light-infantry into my house, Kovaks," Maya said flatly. "You should have come yourself."

"I don't need to come myself, Maya," Kovaks chuckled softly. "You're a ghost with no backing, no supply line, and no official record. You walk into any federal office to report me, and you'll be arrested for desertion before you finish your first sentence."

"I'm not going to a federal office, Colonel," Maya said, leaning close to the receiver. "I'm coming to your estate in Lake Forest."

A long silence lingered over the radio frequency.

"You think you can breach my security compound alone?" Kovaks asked, his tone dropping its jovial edge, becoming cold and guarded.