"Whatever needs doing."
I move toward the closet. Open it. There's a baseball bat in the back, aluminum, weighted. My brother's from when he played in high school. I grab it, test the weight.
Perfect.
Nora's staring at the bat. "You're going to fight thirteen armed men with a baseball bat."
"If I have to." I listen to the footsteps. They've reached the third floor. "Depends on how smart they are."
"This is insane. You're insane. We should hide. We should—"
"They'll find us if we hide. Better to control when and where the fight happens." I look at her directly. "I need you to trust me, Nora. Can you do that?"
She's shaking her head but she says, "Yes."
Good enough.
Voices in the hallway now. Closer. Right outside.
"Unit 3A," someone says. Male. Authority in his voice. "She's in 3A. Stack up."
They're going to breach her apartment. Good. Buys us time.
I hear the crash of a door being kicked in. Nora flinches. I count seconds in my head. They'll clear her apartment fast—one bedroom, small space, nowhere to hide. Thirty seconds. Maybe forty.
"She's not here," a different voice calls out. "Place is empty."
"Check everywhere. She might be hiding."
More sounds of destruction. Furniture being moved. Closet doors slamming open.
"Nothing. She's gone."
Silence for a moment. Then—
"Check the other units. She's in this building somewhere."
Fuck.
They're going door to door. And there are only twelve units on this floor. Won't take long to get to mine.
My phone buzzes. Text from Rampage.
**Five minutes out. Hold tight.**
Five minutes. That's an eternity when men with guns are outside your door.
I text back: **Ready**
Because I am. Every muscle in my body is coiled. Ready. The part of me that came back from war broken has finally found something it knows how to do.
Protect.
"Marcus." Nora's voice is barely a whisper. "They're going to find us."
"Yeah."
"You can't fight all of them."
