Behind me, Miles swears softly. “We’ve got incoming heat. He knows.”
Of course he does.
The lights flicker.
Alarms don’t sound.
Malenkov doesn’t panic.
Heresponds.
“Extraction window is closing,” Aaron warns. “Two minutes.”
I sling Marcus over my shoulder without hesitation.
“You got one,” Jase says. “That’s a win.”
“No,” I answer grimly. “That’s a message.”
Gunfire erupts down the corridor.
We move.
Fast.
Hard.
No finesse now—just momentum and violence.
We reach the lift as bullets chew into the walls around us. I shove Marcus onto the platform, covering him with my body as Aaron hits the ascent.
The lift jerks upward.
Explosions rock the shaft beneath us.
Malenkov is collapsing the node.
Trying to bury us.
The platform slams to a stop above ground. We spill out into the night, sprinting for cover as the depotdetonatesbehind us—fireball tearing skyward, shockwave slamming into my back.
We don’t stop running until the vehicles are moving and the facility is burning.
Marcus is shaking violently now, wrapped in a thermal blanket, oxygen mask on his face.
He grips my sleeve with surprising strength.
“They think you’re dead,” he rasps. “All of us thought—”
“I know,” I say quietly. “Not anymore.”
He swallows hard. “Cal… Jonah… the others—”
“I’m coming for them,” I promise.
His eyes close, tears slipping free.
“I knew,” he whispers faintly. “I knew you wouldn’t leave us.”
