Locked in.
“Three…”
Outside—
Footsteps.
Closing.
“Two…”
Mila’s shoulder brushes mine.
Grounding.
“One—”
“MOVE!”
We explode out of the house.
Rain slams into us instantly, cold and brutal, turning the ground slick beneath our boots.
Gunfire erupts.
We hit hard and fast, exactly where Daniel said—the left flank.
Two men.
Caught off guard.
They don’t last.
Jase takes one down with two shots center mass.
Ronan drops the second before he can even raise his weapon.
“Clear!” Cal shouts behind us.
“Keep moving!” Ethan orders.
We push forward, breaking their line before they can adjust.
Chaos spreads through their formation.
Confusion.
Shouting.
Too late.
We’re already inside their perimeter.
Mila moves like a ghost beside me—precise, lethal, unstoppable. Every shot she takes lands.
Every move calculated.
Every breath controlled.
