In the outer clan building, a hush hung in the air. A solitary lamp illuminated the low table that separated them, while two cups of tea rested there, gradually cooling off.
John had not touched his tea in twenty minutes.
Robert sat with his back straight and his eyes half-closed—not sleeping, but in the particular resting awareness of someone whose body had learned to conserve energy in the spaces between necessary actions.
The contingency plan was deployed. The clan members were positioned. Sai was coordinating from the first floor. The compound's outer yard held its silent readiness like a drawn breath that had not yet released.
There was nothing left to do but wait. John recognized this. He sat with the moment just as he did with other challenging times—allowing the silence to linger without feeling the need to fill it.
The lamp burned between them. Outside the outer building's single window, the compound yard was dark and still.
Then Jack spoke.
"Host."
