Delaney exhaled slowly. Nodded once. She adjusted her stance, steadied her grip, and squeezed the trigger.
And the shot cracked through the air.
The man on the right dropped instantly, screaming in pain, clutching his leg. Olivia staggered, nearly falling as he released her. The other man spun toward the sound, raising his weapon.
Eli fired before he could aim.
The man jerked backward and hit the ground hard, his body motionless.
Delaney refocused fast. The injured man, still screaming, rolled over and lifted his gun. His face twisted with fury.
“Olivia, get down!” Delaney shouted.
She did as she was told and dropped, and Delaney fired. The bullet slammed into the man’s chest. He jerked once, then went still.
Silence closed in, broken only by Olivia’s ragged sobs and the cooling tick of the SUV engine a few yards away.
Delaney stood and ran.
She reached Olivia in seconds, dropping to her knees as the girl collapsed into her arms. She was shaking, barefoot, clothes torn, and blood smeared along her temple.
“I’ve got you,” Delaney said, her voice hoarse. “You’re safe now.”
Eli moved in beside them, keeping his weapon up, scanning the trail for more threats.
Delaney held Olivia tighter. They weren’t too late.
Not this time.
----- ? ----
Chapter Four
----- ? ----
The hospital was the kind you’d expect in a town the size of Crossfire Creek. It was modest, clean, with pale yellow walls and chairs that creaked when you shifted your weight. The waiting room smelled faintly of antiseptic and over-brewed coffee. A vending machine buzzed in the corner, and a muted television played morning news no one was watching.
Eli stood at the window, arms crossed, watching as a nurse wheeled someone down the hall. The chaos from earlier still echoed in his head, but here, in the lull of fluorescent lights and distant footsteps, the weight of what had happened was beginning to settle.
Delaney sat a few chairs away, hunched slightly forward, her hands clasped between her knees. She hadn’t said much since the paramedics had taken Olivia through those double doors. Ty and Jackson were somewhere deeper inside the ER, both still breathing, but Ty’s condition was critical. Jackson had been alert when they broughthim in, swearing he was fine, but Eli knew the look of a man riding adrenaline and stubborn pride.
Noah was en route, and once he arrived, there’d be another flurry of activity. Thankfully, none that involved gunfire and shit. But there’d need to be updates. Debriefs. Questions answered that couldn’t wait for a written report. And Noah would want to see Olivia with his own eyes, to know the girl they had risked everything to save was still alive. Still whole.
More than that though, he’d need to see his team. That wasn’t something Noah would leave to phone calls or status updates. He’d want boots on the ground. Face to face.
Eli didn’t blame him.
Crossfire Ops wasn’t just a team. It was built from scar tissue and second chances. If one of them went down, they didn’t brush it off. They showed up.
And today, they had bled for this mission. Noah would want to know what the hell went wrong… and how close they’d come to losing it all.
On a long sigh, Eli turned from the window and sat next to Delaney. She didn’t look at him. Just stared straight ahead, lips pressed into a tight line. Her fingers moved, snapping a rubber band around her wrist with quiet, steady repetition.
“You handled yourself well today,” Eli said, his voice low. “First op’s never easy. That was solid work.”
She gave a small nod but didn’t look up. Herhand snapped the band again.
“It’s not because of the shooting today,” she explained after a pause. “It’s the flashbacks.”
