That was the last sound I allowed this man to hear unpunished.
I hit him.
Hard.
A bone-crunching punch that knocked him back into the wall.
Trigger yelled, “WOLF—TAKE HIM DOWN!”
Havoc grabbed Nora, pulling her behind the emergency barrier.
But the man recovered.
Too fast.
He pulled something from his belt —
a small black device.
A detonator.
Saint screamed, “HE’S TRIGGERING THE CHARGES—!”
I launched myself at him.
Fingers closing around his wrist—
But he clicked the detonator.
Small pops shook the ceiling —
not explosions —
distractions.
Trigger shouted, “They’re breaching! Wolf MOVE!”
In the blink of an eye, the man used the flash of dust to slip from my grasp — pivoting, rolling across the floor, disappearing behind the emergency maintenance hatch just as a second intruder forced the bunker door flinchingly open.
Two men.
Inside.
Now.
Sheriff Tate fired.
Havoc charged.
Trigger cursed, taking cover.
Saint dove for safety.
And I—
I reached Nora.
Her hands were shaking uncontrollably.
