I pull the trigger.
The shot cracks through the hallway and the round tears through his skull. His head snaps back and his body collapses where he stands, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.
Brooke flinches hard at the sound, her shoulders tightening as she stares down at the body.
I pull her closer as we keep moving.
Behind us, Beau reloads smoothly as we reach the main corridor. Brooke lifts her hand and points, her fingers shaking.
A faint glint catches my eye near the frame. I follow it up and see the thin wire leading to a massive double-bladed axe suspended just inside the doorway, positioned to swing at head height. One clean arc would have taken someone apart. I fire twice into the mechanism. The chain snaps, and the axe drops, slamming into the tile with a metallic crash that echoes down the hall.
“Clear,” Beau calls.
We push into the foyer. Through the glass walls, the courtyard is already alive with movement. Guards converge from every direction, weapons raised, shouting over one another.
I pull Brooke closer, one arm locked around her waist, keeping her upright and shielded against me. My other hand stays on the gun, firing as fast as I can line up shots.
Two rush in from the right. I put the first down with a round through the jaw, pivot, and drive a shot into the second man’s chest before he can steady his aim. Beau handles the left with ruthless efficiency. Brooke stays low and close, her legs shaking with every step, but she doesn't stop.
We force our way forward through smoke, noise, and bodies.
We reach the front gate.
The SUV waits just beyond. Travis leans out from behind the wheel, his eyes wild as he spots us.
“Run,” he shouts. “Get in the fucking car. Now!”
I look down.
Brooke is limping badly now. One arm hangs useless at her side.
Without hesitating, I slide my arm under her knees and lift her into my arms. She doesn't fight it. She wraps her good arm around my neck and holds on.
Gunfire cracks behind us again.
Beau tosses a grenade over his shoulder. The blast sends a shockwave through the clearing. I bend over Brooke, shielding her with my body, and keep moving.
We reach the SUV.
I wrench the back door open and lower Brooke inside, turning my body to block hers as shots snap past us.
Beau dives in the passenger seat, already shouting at Travis.
“Drive!”
The tires scream, gravel sprays. The SUV lurches forward hard enough to slam us back against the seats.
I look down at Brooke.
She doesn't cry. She doesn't blink. Her eyes stay locked on mine, wide and distant, like she is still half trapped somewhere else.
I kiss her.
She doesn't respond at first. Her body stays rigid, her breath shallow and uneven. Shock has flattened her expression, smoothed everything into something frighteningly empty. I pull back just enough to see her face.
“Brooke.”
Her eyes focus slowly. She nods once, like it takes effort.
