Good.
Keep the commander distracted.
“We’re not handing her over,” Russ says evenly.
“I assumed not.”
“Then you understand how this ends.”
The commander’s expression barely changes.
“Yes,” he says quietly. “Violently.”
Wonderful.
I finally find clean gauze and antiseptic beneath a crushed tray of syringes.
Better than nothing.
When I stand again, Clay’s eyes immediately drop to the supplies in my hands.
“Hannah—”
“Sit down.”
His eyebrows rise instantly.
Absolutely not the reaction of a man currently bleeding through tactical gear.
“We don’t have time for this.”
“You’re right,” I reply coolly. “Which is why I’m not asking.”
Miles actually chokes back a laugh somewhere behind us.
Even Lucas mutters, “Man, I missed this.”
Clay glares at all of us.
Then finally crouches beside the concrete barrier with obvious reluctance.
Victory.
Tiny.
Temporary.
Still satisfying.
I kneel in front of him quickly while gunfire continues echoing somewhere farther down the river district.
The commander watches the entire thing silently.
That bothers me.
I pull aside the damaged section of Clay’s vest carefully.
My stomach tightens immediately.
