“ETA?” I ask.
“Thirty seconds,” Lena replies. “You won’t be alone.”
I slow to a walk.
Because this is where timing matters more than speed.
Jase falls in at my left, weapon low but ready. His breathing is calm. Controlled. The kind of calm that only comes when you know your people are closing in.
The first familiar shape ghosts out of an alley to our right.
Aaron.
He doesn’t announce himself. Just appears, eyes already tracking angles, rifle coming up like it’s always been there.
“Miss me?” he mutters.
“Never doubted you,” I answer.
Another shadow breaks off the rooftops ahead—Miles, dropping light, precise, scanning downrange before his boots even settle.
“Convoy’s heavier than expected,” he says. “But not smarter.”
Then the hum overhead—
The helicopter flares just once, far enough away not to draw fire, and Jase lifts his chin as the last piece slides into place.
Delta Five.
Whole.
Together.
The convoy roars closer now—engines snarling, confidence bleeding through speed. They think they’re breaking through a gap.
They don’t realize the gap closed while they were accelerating.
“Positions,” I say quietly.
No echo. No repetition.
They’re already moving.
Aaron ghosts left, cutting off retreat. Miles takes elevation, rifle settling into overwatch. Jase angles right, forcing the convoy into the kill funnel I’ve already measured.
I step into the open.
Deliberate.
Visible.
The lead vehicle brakes hard.
Too late.
“Now,” I say.
The world explodes into motion.
