Not a firefight.
An execution of bad decisions.
Wolf drops two guards on the stairwell before they even finish turning toward us.
I take one at the end of the corridor.
He never sees me.
“Basement door is reinforced,” Havoc says over comms.
“Working it,” Wolf replies.
We move fast down the main corridor, boots pounding against concrete.
Then I hear it.
A scraping sound.
Metal dragging across the floor.
A low grunt.
Saint.
Alive.
That’s all I need.
Wolf plants the charge.
The explosion blows the reinforced door inward in a cloud of smoke and sparks.
We move through the opening.
Weapons up.
Scanning.
Then—
“Saint!”
His head snaps up.
Even battered and bleeding, his eyes go lethal the second he sees us.
“About time,” he says hoarsely.
Wolf cuts the cuffs while I cover the doorway.
Metal falls away from Saint’s wrists.
He rolls his shoulders, wincing.
Then the building goes dark.
The overhead lights die instantly.
