Hale drew the plan on a flat stone with a stick and six pebbles.
No map.
No ornament.
Just the parts that mattered.
"Cordwell."
He placed one pebble near the center.
"Three roads in."
Three lines scratched into the dirt.
"All watched."
Another mark beside each.
"All patrolled on rotations we've tracked for a week."
Valerica crouched opposite him, notebook open.
"Fixed rotations?"
"Fixed enough to use."
"That's not the same thing."
"No."
Hale glanced at her.
"That distinction is why we're practicing."
He marked two short gaps along one of the scratched routes.
"Twice a day, patrol coverage thins here."
"How long?"
"Twenty minutes."
Ashe frowned.
"For forty people."
"Yes."
"That's barely enough time to move forty trained soldiers through open ground."
"They aren't soldiers."
"I know."
"That makes it harder, not easier."
Ashe looked at him.
Hale continued.
"We don't fight our way into Cordwell."
He tapped the road.
"We don't fight our way out."
