Reynoso cleared his throat. “Liam called me. According to his informant, General Sinclair plans to attack Fall Creek at dawn.” Bishop glanced at his watch. “That’s about five hours.” Gasps sounded around the room. Stricken faces stared at him, mouths agape. Quinn’s ribs constricted like a giant hand was squeezing tighter and tighter. The vaulted ceiling was too low, too close, pressing down on her. It was hard to breathe.
