They slammed into the dirt outside. The impact drove the breath from Viper’s lungs, smoke and grit clawing down his throat.
He rolled to his side, coughing in air that tasted like dust and ash—
—but Titus didn’t give him a second to breathe. A rough hand caught his arm, hauling him up into a crouch and shoving him forward.
The safe house burned behind them—orange fire clawing at the night, gunfire still echoing from inside.
“Memphis—” Viper started, but Titus was already moving, scanning the tree line, reloading like he hadn’t just walked through hell.
“They’ll overrun it,” Titus said flatly. “We stay, we die.”
He caught Viper’s arm and kept him moving.
For half a second, Viper almost pulled away. But the sky flashed with another explosion, and he let it go—let Titus drag him through the dirt toward the cover of the ridge.
They ran until the fire was just a glow behind them, until the gunfire faded into the wind.
When they finally stopped, both breathing hard, the desert was silent again.
Smoke rose against the stars.
The safe house was gone.
Titus kept walking until they were engulfed in a thick strand of trees. It was there that Titus stopped as if indecisive—or maybe figuring out their next move.
“You got comms?” Viper asked. He had a plan, and Titus either came along or got left.
Titus shook his head.
Viper grimaced, pulling the cracked device from his ear. “Mine’s toast.”
“What’s the contingency plan?” Titus asked, pulling a spare clip from his pocket and reloading his Ruger.
Surprised, Viper studied the other man for a beat before checking his own weapon—still rounds left, spare mag tucked into his vest.
“That depends,” he said, frowning at Titus’s tight black shirt. “You wearing?”
Titus rapped his knuckles against his chest. Something hard beneath.
“Supposedly the thinnest, most advanced armor in the world,” he said with a grunt. “Savage had them custom-made for us.”
Only then did Viper notice the compact pack Titus slid from his shoulders. The assassin unscrewed a canteen and handed it over without a word.
Viper hesitated, then drank deep—the water cold, sharp. He hadn’t even grabbed his own pack. All their gear was ash back in the safe house.
The SecDef was going to have his ass.
He should’ve had his mind in the game instead of his dick.
And as much as he hated admitting it, he’d enjoyed the hell out of pinning Titus to that damn fridge.
Now look where it got him.
“So?”
“What?” Viper asked blankly.
“The contingency plan?”
