Gage wiped soot from his cheek and flashed a grin. “Who wants to bet Beckett walks out dragging Viktor by the collar?”
River smirked, even as bullets ripped the air around him. “My money’s on Elara doing it instead.”
That earned a laugh—quick and grim, but real.
I looked up from my screen, the light of it casting ghost blue across my hands.
“They’ll need the exit clear,” I said. “That’s our job.”
And as the next wave of Hydra soldiers broke through the smoke, the Golden Team did what we always did—stood shoulder to shoulder, outnumbered, outgunned, and absolutely unbreakable.
82
River
The air stank of smoke and seawater, the kind that clings to your lungs and never leaves.
We were running out of ammo and time—but not grit.
“Reloads?” I barked.
“Down to two mags,” Oliver said from his perch.
“Make ‘em count,” I said.
Gage laughed like a man who’d been counting his whole life. “That’s one for each hand.”
Before I could answer, Cyclone’s voice cut through the static.
“Convoy’s inbound—armored vans, east lane. They’re carrying more captives; my scan just lit up six human signatures inside.”
That changed everything.
“Copy,” I said. “We’re not letting them roll out with anyone alive in those boxes.”
Oliver’s calm as ever. “You calling it?”
“Yeah,” I said, gripping my rifle. “Golden Team, we hit them hard and fast. Gage—blow the lead van. Oliver, cover the drivers. Cyclone, when I say go, jam their comms and open the bay gate for extraction.”
“Already on it,” Cyclone replied.
We moved.
The convoy rounded the pier just as the smoke shifted—three armored vans in a tight wedge. Gage broke cover, sprinting through debris like it wasn’t even there. He slid under a half-collapsed crane arm, slapped a charge against the van’s undercarriage, and dove for cover.
The blast ripped the night apart.
Metal screamed, flames burst high, and the remaining vans swerved. Oliver’s rifle cracked twice—two perfect shots. Both drivers slumped forward, vehicles skidding sideways into the barrier.
“Convoy neutralized!” Cyclone reported. “You’ve got a forty-second window before their reinforcements realize they’re gone.”
We rushed in. I yanked open the rear door of the nearest van. Inside, a woman blinked against the smoke, hands bound, eyes wide with disbelief. Behind her, two more people—worn, terrified, still breathing.
“You’re safe,” I said. “We’re getting you out.”
Gage cut the ties with his combat knife, voice low. “Stick close, keep low. We’ve got you.”
Cyclone’s voice came through again, tighter this time. “Reinforcements rerouting. They know you’re there. River, you’ve got to move now!”
