Adam’s voice snapped sharp, all commander. “Report.”
Russ’s calm voice crackled through comms.“Four SUVs pulling up to the south entrance. Heavily armed. They know you’re inside.”
My blood turned to ice.
“They’re early,” Boone added, static lacing his voice.“Either your window just closed, or this was never about keeping it open.”
I looked at Adam, my heart slamming. His eyes burned like steel in the low light. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate.
“Blade, Hawk—two each. Logan, cover the hall. Russ, Boone, prep evac.” He turned to me, voice dropping low but still sharp enough to cut. “Raine—keep them breathing.”
I wanted to argue. To tell him I could fight, that I’d earned my stripes. But then I looked down at the woman under my hands—her pulse faint, her lips moving in some half-dreamed prayer—and I knew.
This was my battle. Right here.
“Got it,” I whispered.
Gunfire cracked in the distance, muffled but close. Boots thundered against tile. The building vibrated with the sound of men moving fast, armed and angry.
I smoothed my palm over the woman’s hand, forcing myself to stay steady even as fear burned up my spine. “You’re going home,” I told her, my voice breaking. “I swear it.”
Then I raised my head, met Adam’s eyes across the chaos.
And even as hell closed in around us, I saw it there—faith. Trust. That unshakable belief that we would survive this.
Together.
93
Adam
The first shots cracked through the hall like thunder. Tile shattered, sparks flaring as rounds chewed the walls.
“Contact—south entrance!” Hawk’s voice roared through comms.
“Hold the hall!” I snapped, shoving Raine toward the corner where the patients lay. Her eyes burned at me, steady, but she obeyed, crouching low and shielding the woman’s fragile body with her own.
I turned back, Glock up, and fired three controlled bursts. A masked man dropped in the doorway, his rifle clattering to the floor. Two more shoved past him, spraying wild.
Blade was already moving, knife flashing in one hand, pistol in the other. He cut them down with surgical precision, his blade sinking deep into one throat as his gun barked twice into the other’s chest.
“Logan!” I barked.
“I’ve got it!” he snarled, sliding into position to cover the side hall. His pistol snapped off clean shots, dropping another man before he could flank us.
More boots thundered outside. Reinforcements. Heavily armed. This wasn’t a scare tactic. They meant to bury us here.
“Hawk, Russ—status!”
“Rear’s hot!”Hawk growled over gunfire.“They’re pushing heavy, but we’re holding!”
Russ’s voice was calm but tight.“Boone’s pulling vehicles around. We’ll have maybe ninety seconds before they cut us off completely.”
Ninety seconds. Not enough. But it would have to be.
“Blade, Logan—cover fire!” I barked. “Hawk, push through and clear us a lane! Russ, get Boone ready to roll hot!”
Gunfire erupted like a storm. My men moved like they’d been born for it—precision, violence, control. But it wasn’t enough to win. This wasn’t about winning.
