Page 54 of Crossfire Creek Siege

A whisper of gravel to his right. Subtle, but wrong.

He caught it before anyone else did, a flicker of darker shadow against dark. He signed low, flank right, and started moving, each step deliberate, controlled. Rena ghosted after him without a sound, the two of them slipping through the underbrush like smoke.

They stopped just shy of a small clearing. The trees here were sparser, the moonlight cutting through in sharp silver slashes. Gage crouched, one hand braced on the dirt, scanning the shadows for what had made that sound.

Nothing.

Then Rena shifted, leaning just far enough out to catch a line of sight. Her movement was slight, just enough to draw a predator’s eye.

The bait worked.

Branches snapped, and a hulking figure burst out of the trees, full tactical gear, face painted black, rifle slung but hands already reaching for her.

Gage moved before the man could even shout. He slammed forward, tackling him low, driving his shoulder into the guy’s ribs. They hit the ground hard, rolling. Fists and knees, no time for subtlety.

Behind them, Gage heard the chaos. The faint thud of boots, grunts, and the crack of impact. No gunfire, everyone was keeping to Cal’s order. Hand-to-hand, fast and brutal.

Rena pivoted, sweeping her leg under another attacker who lunged from the side. He went down with a muffled grunt.

Gage ducked a swing, countered with an elbow to the throat. The man choked, stumbled back, but he didn’t go down.

Rena moved fast, too fast for the thug to get a clean grip on his weapon. She pivoted hard, her boot slamming into his wrist. The gun skittered into the dirt, vanishing in the dark.

Gage didn’t wait. He surged forward, driving a fist into the man’s jaw. The hit landed solid, a satisfying crack. The thug staggered, swung back wild, and Gage ducked under it, twisting behind him. His arm snaked around the man’s neck in a chokehold, using his momentum to drive him down.

The fight was short, brutal, and one-sided. Nothing rusty about Gage’s skills. He moved on instinct, muscle memory, and fury. The man hit the ground hard, gasping. Gage slammed a knee into his back to keep him down.

Then, movement, a blur in his periphery.

“Rena—”

Too late. Another guy, built like a tank, was already on her.

She spun, dodging the first grab. The guy was huge, easily twice her weight, but Rena didn’t back up an inch. She drove a knee into his thigh, followed it with an elbow to his ribs. He grunted but came at her again.

Gage started toward them, but before he could close the distance, Rena ducked under the man’s next swing, hooked his leg and used his own size against him. He hit the ground with a thud that rattled the dirt.

She didn’t hesitate. From her belt, she yanked out a stunner and drove it into his side. The man convulsed, muscles locking before going limp.

“Nice,” Gage muttered, his breath hard as he grabbed the first guy and yanked his arms behind him.

Together, they worked fast. Rena hit both thugs again with the stunner just to be sure while Gage zip-tied their wrists and ankles. Then he stripped them of weapons, tossing their rifles a good distance away.

He pressed a finger to his comm. “Isla, two down, restrained. Sending coordinates for pickup once the area’s secure.”

“Got it,” Isla’s voice crackled back. “Good work. Keep moving.”

He glanced at the two unconscious men. “Let’s hope these bastards are chatty,” he muttered. “Because I’d sure as hell like to know who’s signing their paychecks.”

Gage and Rena cut through the brush, moving fast and low, every instinct still humming from the fight. The air smelled of dirt and sweat, adrenaline still sharp on his tongue. Ahead, faint movement.

Cal’s signal flash.

They closed the distance to find the rest of the team crouched in a small clearing just short of the hangars. Two more men were down—one face down in the weeds, the other slumped against a tree, both zip-tied, weapons already stripped away. Cal stood over them, breathing hard, his knuckles raw. Garrett was sweeping the perimeter, checking for stragglers.

Rena fell in beside Gage, scanning the tree line while keeping her weapon up. “Four total,” she murmured, eyes narrowing. “Either a recon team or the last of the guards.”

“Let’s hope it’s the second,” Gage said under his breath.