The night air hit Blair like a slap. The compound looked different now, like something broken open, secrets spilling out. Bodies scattered the yard. Skull appeared, pushing two bound men, Bones growling and trotting around them like he was herding them.
“TOC, we’re exiting the structure,” Ice said. “Status.”
Ayla’s voice was brisk. “All visible hostiles are down. Perimeter remains clear. I’ve got your convoy intact and waiting.”
The RCMP SUVs and the SEALs’ vehicles sat where they had left them near the breached fence, Carver and Jones hovering near the third SUV, faces pale in the wash of headlights.
They started across the yard, forming a rough protective shell around Marques. Blair went ahead, Beef and Kodiak on the right.
Breakneck walked slightly behind and off to the side, eyes raking the shadows.
“Guys!” Ayla said suddenly, sharp. “West side. Weapons shack. I’ve got a new signature. Something’s?—”
He saw it at the same instant.
A biker burst from behind the weapons shed, a shadow separated from deeper shadow, an RPG launcher already hefted onto his shoulder, muzzle yawning toward them.
Blair’s mouth went dry, and the world narrowed to a sliver. Time seemed to slow down.
Breakneck slammed his hand into her shoulder, driving her down even as he drew his pistol. “Avalanche!” he shouted, voice raw.
Blair hit the dirt, Marques dragged with her as she grabbed his vest and yanked. Beef dropped. Kodiak threw himself over Marques. Ice pivoted, Boomer and Skull hit the dirt, Skull pulling Bones down with him.
Breakneck moved before she could take another breath. He went airborne, twisting his body in a move that was pure reflex, pulling his sidearm at the same time he aimed.
The man was running, steps uneven. Breakneck fired once, the shot snapping out like a whip crack.
The bullet caught the biker high in the shoulder, driving him back. His grip loosened. The nose of the RPG rose just as his finger convulsed on the trigger.
Breakneck dropped onto her, his heavy body covering her, his arms slipping around her, his back to the explosion. He never lost focus for one second. His gun fired again, this time hitting the man in the forehead before he could take another breath.
The rocket spat fire, shrieked across the yard. It passed over their heads in a flaming arc, so close Blair felt the burn slice the air above her face.
Then it slammed into the far tree line behind them.
The explosion tore the night open.
Heat slammed them like a wall. The concussion wave rolled over the yard, flipping loose debris, flattening the grass. Blair’s breath punched out of her as the ground beneath her shuddered. For a second, all she could hear was a roaring buzz.
She opened her eyes, staring up at the night sky, vision full of drifting sparks and fragments of leaves tumbling down.
Somewhere beyond the ringing in her ears, Ayla’s voice was shouting her name. “Sergeant Brown! Breakneck! Report. Report!”
Blair sucked in a breath, coughed, turned her head.
Marques was still beside her, Kodiak sprawled over him, eyes already blinking back into focus. Beef was on his back, clutching his arm where something had grazed him earlier, face pale but conscious. Ice was pushing himself up, swearing softly, helmet askew.
Breakneck’s weight was too heavy. She tried to move, but he didn’t budge. “Oh, God,” she whispered. “Kodiak!” she shouted.
The dirt scraped, footsteps rushed, and his weight moved off her. She reared up. His face was pale beneath impossibly thick, dark lashes. “Kelly? Kelly!”
Kodiak took something out of his med kit and ran it under Breakneck’s nose. He sputtered and coughed and came awake, his body jackknifing like there was still a threat, and even emerging from unconsciousness, he was ready to fight.
He fought Kodiak’s arms, tried to rise. “Blair,” he called, his chest rising and falling too fast.
“I’m right here,” she said, touching his arm. He stopped fighting, eyes locked on her like he needed a visual confirmation she was breathing.
She met his gaze.
