“Got him,” Nikos replied.
Two seconds later, a yelp echoed across the space and Dante was out.
Kiki’s brows lifted. “Color me impressed.”
“Neon pink, wasn’t it?”
She grinned despite herself, even as she ducked under incoming fire. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Surprisingly… yes.”
The match escalated. Two-on-six wasn’t exactly fair odds, but she and Nikos moved like they’d trained together for years. When she slipped, he was there—pulling her behind cover with a hand at her waist. When he charged, she covered him with sharp, surgical fire. They moved in sync, reading each other’s intentions before they were spoken.
It was terrifying.
Because it felt good.
Too good.
And that scared the hell out of her.
They moved upward, checking the upper floors. They took out three more opponents hiding in the various sections.
“Two more. Top floors cleared,” he murmured, swinging around and holding his gun at the ready.
“They must’ve gone to ground—either waiting for us to circle back or trying to outflank us,” she said.
He nodded, his gaze locking with hers for a second. Kiki looked away when she saw the questions burning behind his mask.
“There’s an old fire escape slide in the floor in the right corner that goes to the basement. I’ll take it down and come up the east stairwell. You climb down the scaffolding on the west side,” she instructed.
“Could be a trap,” he warned.
She shook her head. “Both are shielded from view. Or, we can do it the hard way, retrace and make sure they haven’t come up behind us.”
“I go for that,” he said. “Once we’ve made sure, we’ll do the slide and climb and come up on each side.”
“Roger that,” she murmured.
They re-swept the upper level, tension building in both of them. The four players they had already taken out had been jumpy. These last two had more skill. Kiki itched to spread out her senses, but this was a game—and she wouldn’t cheat. Once they made sure their last two opponents hadn’t tried to sneak up behind them, they parted, each heading in a different direction.
Kiki jogged on silent feet to the end of the corridor where a large, black hole gaped like a monstrous mouth in the wall. She gripped the bar above the hole, slid her feet in, and hugged her gun to her chest before she tucked her elbows and feet and sliddown the winding tube. Near the end, she spread her feet, slowing until she stopped.
She breathed, listening, before she inched her way down until she emerged feet first on the thick, padded cushion. She swept the area, keeping behind the crates that had been erected in front of the hole. The rest of the room was a large, empty area with no hiding spots.
She exhaled, resisting the urge to reach for Nikos through their link.
“He’s good. He’ll make it,” she whispered, focusing on the stairs across from her.
Taking the steps two at a time, she rolled under the bar behind a stack of crates the second there was enough room. She crawled on her belly, peering through a gap in the crates.
A flash of movement to her left showed their two opponents were circling for a crossfire on Nikos.
“Nikos, double left, warehouse wall!” she called out, breaking from cover.
He turned. He was at the wrong angle to hit them. For a split second, the world turned to a red haze around her. This was no longer a game. The bullets weren’t paintballs.
“They’re flanking you!” she hissed into the mic.
