Max grunts when a round hits his thigh, but his rhythm doesn’t falter. We advance step-by-step, leaving bodies in our wake.
Through the chaos of gunfire and shouting, I hear Vanya in my ear. “Second wave engaged at the main entrance. Assholes brought friends.”
The plan is still good. “Hold position. We’re closing in on the package.”
The air fills with cordite and blood, the scents accompanied by a symphony of violence.
Gunshots, bones breaking, the thud of bullets invading flesh.
Amid all the chaos, I remain cold and focused. Each man I kill is just an obstacle separating me from Chloe.
Their deaths are nothing personal.
When we reach a junction where the corridor splits, Max glances at me with an unspoken question in his eyes.
“I go right. Clear the floor. Make sure we’re not flanked.”
He nods once and disappears, a silent predator hunting in his natural environment. He’ll be fine. Without a partner to protect, Max is even more ruthless and deadly. He’ll unleash and kill everyone in sight.
I quicken my pace, growing more reckless with each stride. The blueprints for the building are still fresh in my mind. Another cluster of men blocks my path. Not hired muscle this time. Skilled. They move with military precision, coordinating their attacks.
Adrenaline surges as I duck and shoot. When my pistol empties a second time, I switch to the knife and slide the blade into a man’s ribs. As he collapses, I steal his weapon—an MP5 submachine gun—and race forward, abandoning all pretense of stealth.
The MP5 chatters in my hands, cutting down anyone foolish enough to stand in my way.
My world narrows to a tunnel of pure focus.
Forward, always forward, I hasten toward the reinforced door at the end of the hall where Kirill says I’ll find Chloe.
The last guard before the door puts up more of a fight than the others. He catches me with a lucky shot that rips through my left arm.
Between the continued adrenaline rush and my determination, the pain barely registers. I empty the last of the MP5’s magazine into his chest. He folds to the floor, a marionette with cut strings.
I reach the final barrier between Gio and me.
BetweenChloeand me.
The reinforced door looms before me. One slab of metal representing the last obstacle.
I press my finger to my ear. “Target located. Breaching final door.”
“Copy that.” Exertion strains Alexei’s reply. “Hurry the fuck up. We can’t hold them off much longer.”
I set the breaching charge and retreat, covering my ears.
The charge detonates with a concussive thump that vibrates my skin.
As the door buckles inward, before the smoke can even clear, I rush to whatever waits on the other side.
The room materializes through a dissipating haze, revealing an improvised interrogation chamber with bare concrete walls and a single overhead light that casts harsh shadows.
Chloe sits in a metal chair at the center, her wrists bound to the armrests with ropes. Despite the fear in her eyes, she wears a mask of determination.
Blood trickles from a cut on her cheek, a bright crimson streak against her pale skin. Alive, but hurt.
Red blurs my vision as I try to cling to the edges of my control.
She’s not supposed to be injured. This entire time I kept her safe, and now she’s bleeding.
