I look at Daniel.
Really look at him.
And for the first time—
I don’t see arrogance.
I see urgency.
Real.
Dangerous.
Honest?
…maybe.
I hate that maybe.
“Talk fast,” I say.
Because one way or another—
This is about to get a whole lot worse.
48
Jase
The second wave hits fast.
Faster than the first.
No hesitation.
No warning.
Just impact.
Gunfire rips through the front of the house before the vehicles even fully stop. Bullets punch through wood, glass, drywall—turning the safehouse into shredded cover in seconds.
“Contact front!” Cal shouts.
“I see it!” Jonah fires back.
I drop behind the overturned table, ignoring the way my ribs scream in protest. Mila is already moving—low, fast, controlled—sliding in beside me with the device secured tight against her body.
“Another vehicle,” she says.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “They brought friends.”
Ethan’s voice cuts through everything.
“Hold positions! Funnel them in!”
Delta Five spreads out like a living thing, each man taking a sector, overlapping fields of fire. No panic. No wasted movement.
Just war.
