“Secure the perimeter!” he calls. “Sweep for survivors. I want eyes on everything! Let’s clean this mess up.”
The team moves instantly.
Precise.
Relentless.
I turn back toward the storm, rain soaking through my clothes, weapon still in my hand.
War just escalated.
And this time—
We’re not just fighting to survive.
We’re fighting to expose everything.
45
Jase
The storm doesn’t let up.
Rain pounds the roof like it’s trying to drown the world, washing blood into the dirt, turning the ground outside into mud and memory.
Inside—
It’s quieter.
But not calm.
Never calm.
Delta Five moves like a machine, clearing rooms, checking bodies, locking down every inch of the safehouse. No wasted movement. No second guesses.
They’ve got us.
I don’t question that.
Not them.
Not my team.
But still…
Something sits wrong in my gut.
And I’ve learned the hard way not to ignore that.
I lean against the wall in the narrow hallway, breathing controlled, even if it feels like glass is lodged in my ribs every time I inhale.
Across from me, Mila is reloading.
Efficient.
Focused.
Untouchable.
