We’re not alone.
Time stretches and compresses until I lose track of it entirely.
Much later—who knows?—a voice comes over the radio that sounds like Grizz, except it's nearly breathless. “…don’t wait for me?—”
My heart pounds as my skin turns to ice.Don't wait for him? What the hell's going on?
“…if we lose the perimeter—fallback protocol?—”
Atlas? But he doesn't sound the same, either.
There's a crack of gunfire before the radio cuts out, and a sob tears out of my throat.
I’m clinging to the comm like a lifeline, but it goes quiet again for far too long.
Then come unfamiliar voices making loud commands. Next, the wail of sirens. Even muffled, they’re unmistakable.
I don’t move.
I don’t even breathe.
The radio goes silent.
CHAPTER 47
ATLAS
The turning point comes when federal vehicles arrive with sirens loud enough to rival the gunfire.
A voice booms over a loudspeaker, the attackers hesitate, and that’s all it takes.
Armed agents pour into the compound from the secondary road, tipping the scales decisively in our direction.
Gunfire breaks off in uneven bursts, then stops altogether.
I hold my position, rifle up, and track the treeline while survivors are dragged out of the woods, disarmed, and zip-tied in the snow.
I brace, watching and listening.
Thermal remains clear. No new movement. No chatter except federal traffic taking control of the perimeter.
I count to ten, then break cover and jog back toward the house. Inside ops, the screens confirm what Ialready know. The fight is over.
I radio Grizz and Viper, directing them to watch for secondaries, then I head straight to the short hall that leads to the safe room.
“Kira,” I say into the comm. “It’s me. It’s Atlas.”
The lock disengages a moment later.
When I swing the door open, Kira’s standing in the center of the space, back straight, hands curled tightly at her sides. Her breath is shallow, like she’s been holding it for too long.
I secure the pistol from the shelf without comment, then cross the room.
“Are you okay? Is everyone okay?” Her eyes dart around my body, snagging on my sleeve, where there’s blood I hadn’t yet noticed.
“I’m okay. We’re all okay.” I close the space between us and wrap an arm around her, pulling her into my chest. “You’re safe.”
It’s a report, and a promise.
