“Sniper!” Wolf shouts.
I don’t stop.
I grab the kid, wrap an arm around him, and throw us both behind a parked truck as another round smashes into the metal above us.
“Saint, get down!” Trigger yells through my comm.
“Negative,” I snap. “Civilians still out!”
Havoc is already laying down suppressing fire toward the rooftops.
Wolf calls out coordinates.
“Third building north! Roofline!”
More gunfire cracks across the street.
But the damage is already done.
This wasn’t just arson.
This wasn’t just intimidation.
This was theater.
A message written in fire and bullets.
They want blood.
They want panic.
They want me to choose.
I look at the burning buildings.
The terrified civilians.
The child shaking in my arms.
And only one thought burns through my mind.
You will not take my daughter’s world.
19
Saint
The fire department finally gets water on the hardware store.
Too late to save it.
The roof collapses inward with a roar of sparks and steam, sending a wave of heat rolling down the street.
But we saved the people.
That’s what matters.
Paramedics move between the trucks and ambulances. Civilians sit wrapped in blankets on the curb while firefighters shout over the roar of hoses.
