She worked through the night.
Not all of it—she gave herself three hours between two and five, flat on the cot in the war room with her boots still on, because a brain running on no sleep made errors and errors on Thursday would cost bodies. She slept the way she'd trained herself to sleep in the field: fast down, fast up, no dreaming. She was back at the map by 05:10.
By 05:30 she had it.
The Tracker read patterns. That was his function—observe, build the model, predict the next move. He'd been watching De Luca operations long enough to know their approach logic: which vectors they favored, how wide they spread before a strike, how long between the last scout position and the first team movement. He would be positioned to watch that logic play out on Thursday. He would expect to see it.
