Forty-eight hours until The Purge's promised attack and I spent the first twelve trying to talk Hope out of staying in the combat zone, which was about as effective as reasoning with a hurricane and twice as exhausting.
"I understand you want to help." My fifteenth attempt at persuasion while she practiced defensive freezing on training dummies. "But helping doesn't mean being in direct danger. You could evacuate and provide remote support. Coordinate from safe distance. Still contribute without being the primary target."
Remote support from safe distance. Right. Remove her from immediate danger while maintaining tactical utility.
"That's the same as hiding." Her response was immediate. Certain. "The Purge wants me dead. Running away doesn't change that. Just makes them chase me somewhere else. Somewhere without twenty-eight hundred defenders. Somewhere I'd be more vulnerable not less."
More vulnerable not less. Right. Her tactical assessment was unfortunately sound.
