I pick up speed.
Because the hunt isn’t over.
It’s just shifted direction.
And now—
We’re all on the same side of it.
70
Ronan
Location: Ascendancy Detention Wing → Eastern Exfil Route
Time: 1237 Hours
The alarms change.
Not louder.
Closer.
That’s Malenkov realizing exactly what he’s lost.
“Move,” I say.
Delta Five closes ranks instantly. Ethan Cross is on his feet but swaying—muscle memory fighting damage. Lance barely makes it two steps before his knees buckle.
I catch him before he hits the floor.
“I’ve got you,” I tell him.
His fingers clamp into my sleeve with surprising strength. “Knew you’d come,” he mutters, like this was always a certainty.
“It just took a minute,” I say.
Aaron and Miles flank Ethan, weapons up, bodies angled to shield him. Jase takes rear security. Lena’s voice tightens in my ear.
“Multiple internal teams converging. You’ve got ninety seconds before contact. Ronan, get your ass out of there.”
Plenty of time.
We move fast but controlled. No sprinting. No panic. You don’t rush injured men—youcarry the clock for them.
The first shots crack down the corridor ahead of us.
I fire once.
Then again.
Two guards drop. The rest scatter.
Malenkov’s people are trained—but they’re trained to dominate prisoners, not fight men who refuse to stop moving.
“Left!” Lance rasps.
I pivot on instinct and fire into the shadowed recess before the muzzle flash even blooms.
