Sound.
Pressure.
A concussive blast slams through the warehouse, knocking crates loose, metal screaming as it tears free.
I turn instantly, pulling Scout and Tessa down, shielding them as debris crashes across the floor.
“Down!”
The air fills with dust, sound ringing, visibility dropping instantly.
“Report!” I bark.
“Team’s good!” Boone shouts back. “Minor hits!”
I push up, scanning—
And that’s when I see it.
The far wall.
Blown open.
Not collapsed—
Opened.
Controlled.
Designed.
“He made an exit,” Boone says.
“No,” Scout replies.
Her voice cuts through the noise.
Sharp.
Focused.
“He made an entrance.”
Movement.
Fast.
Shadows breaking through the dust.
Multiple.
Not one.
Not two.
A team.
“They’re coming in!” Russ shouts.
