Even terrified, they listen to her.
“Back exit,” I say. “Thirty seconds.”
Olivia looks up sharply. “Thirty—?”
“That’s all we have.”
The words hang there for half a second.
Then she nods once. “Okay.”
Still no argument.
That shouldn’t hit me the way it does.
We move fast through the rear opening of the safehouse and straight into rough terrain.
Loose rock slides beneath our boots immediately.
Sharp drops.
Narrow footing.
Perfect killing ground.
Wind tears through the hills hard enough to sting my eyes.
“Keep moving,” Lucas says quietly from the front.
Behind us—
A door slams open.
Voices explode into the night.
Arabic shouting echoes against the rocks.
Too close.
Damn it.
“They’re inside!” Miles hisses.
The group surges forward faster.
A child stumbles on the uneven ground with a frightened cry.
Olivia catches him before he hits the rocks.
“I’ve got you,” she whispers, pulling him upright.
It costs us seconds.
That’s all it takes.
Gunfire erupts behind us.
The first shots crack through the dark so close I hear rounds snap past my head.
