Ryan is behind Parker, gun to her head. His eyes are wide, panicked. He wasn’t expecting us to breach this fast, this hard, to cut through his people like they were made of paper.
I use his surprise. The split second where his brain is processing the door exploding inward, the armed men pouring through.
I shoot him.
Center mass. One shot.
Ryan screams, the sound raw and agonized. His gun drops, his hand going to his chest where blood is already blooming across his tactical vest. He staggers backward, away from Parker, leaving her exposed.
Movement to the left. Blonde hair. Designer dress.
Aria.
She’s pulling a weapon from somewhere behind the laptop, her movements fast and practiced. Not the fumbling of someone who doesn’t know guns. The efficiency of someone who’s trained.
She levels the gun at Parker.
“Don’t,” she says, her voice cold.
A red dot appears on Parker’s chest. Laser sight. From outside. Through the window behind her.
Sniper.
Fuck.
“Lower your weapons,” Aria says, her gun steady on Parker. “All of you. Now. Or the sniper puts a bullet through her heart.”
I track the angle of the laser sight, trying to pinpoint the shooter’s position. Trees to the east. Maybe 200 meters out. Too far to rush. Too concealed to get a clean shot.
“Sniper, east tree line,” I report into the comm. “Can’t get position.”
“Can’t see him either,” Williams responds. “Too much cover.”
Jace is beside me, his weapon raised but not fired. He’s seeing what I’m seeing. Parker with a red dot on her chest. Aria with a gun trained on her. Ryan bleeding on the floor but still alive, still a threat if he gets his hands on a weapon.
“Lower your weapons,” Aria repeats. “Or she dies.”
I don’t lower my weapon. But I don’t shoot either. Because if I shoot Aria, the sniper shoots Parker. If I shoot at the window trying to hit the sniper, I might hit Parker instead.
We’re at a stalemate.
Parker’s eyes meet mine. She’s been working her wrists this whole time, I realize. The zip ties. She’s been twisting them, loosening them, using every second of distraction to free herself.
That’s my girl.
But she’s not free yet. And that red dot is still on her chest.
Charles and Cal enter behind us, weapons raised, taking in the situation instantly.
“Aria,” Charles says, his voice controlled. “Let’s talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Aria says. “Lower your weapons or Parker dies. Simple.”
“You shoot her, you lose your leverage,” Jace points out.
“I don’t have to shoot her,” Aria says. “My sniper does it for me. And then we see how long the rest of you last when this building is surrounded by my people.”
From the floor, Ryan is gasping, clutching his chest. The vest stopped the bullet from killing him but he’s hurt bad. Probably cracked ribs, maybe internal bleeding.
