Page 57 of Crossfire Creek Siege

Cal’s voice came back on, this time lower, more controlled. “Isla, Noah, we’ve got tear gas deployed inside the hangar. Unknown source. Could’ve been triggered automatically or launched manually. No visuals yet.”

Static crackled faintly through the comm before Isla’s strained whisper came back. “Copy that. Drone feed’s blind, can’t see through the roof. You’re on your own for now.”

Rena glanced at Gage, her heartbeat drumming in her ears. His eyes met hers through the mask—steady, sharp, promising they’d hold the line.

Then another sound. Soft, deliberate. Footsteps somewhere beyond the fog. Whoever was out there wasn’t running. They were stalking.

Gunfire ripped through the haze, sharp, deafening cracks that echoed off the metal walls. Bullets pinged against crates and steel racks, ricocheting with bone-rattling force.

Rena dropped flat, her heart slamming against her ribs. Through the thick tear gas, she could barely make out shapes, blurred, shifting shadows moving fast.

“Contact—multiple,” Cal hissed over comms.

“Got eyes,” Garrett answered, his voice clipped, urgent. “Thermal scanner’s reading heat signatures under us. There’s a false floor. They’re coming up through it.”

Rena’s stomach dropped. That’s why we didn’t see them before. The bastards had been hiding right beneath them.

More shots tore through the smoke. Rena ducked as a round hit the crate above her, the impact raining metal fragments down on her shoulder. She swallowed a curse, fighting to steady her breathing through the mask.

“They’ve got night-vision,” she blurted into comms. “Can’t see a damn thing in this gas unless they’re geared for it.”

“Agreed,” Gage’s voice came back, low and tense from somewhere to her left.

A burst of gunfire answered him, cutting close. Too close. The sound was muffled but lethal, the air thick with chemical burn and adrenaline.

Cal’s voice came back through the comm. “Hold your positions. Return fire if you’ve got a clean shot. We’re not losing anyone tonight.”

Rena pressed her back to the crate, weapon ready, her vision blurred but her aim locked on instinct. Somewhere in the fog ahead, the enemy was advancing.

Cal’s voice cut through the comm again. “Smoke out. Flashbang following. I’m aiming right for that false floor where the assholes are coming out.”

A second later, he tossed the canisters.

The pop of the smoke bomb was immediate, filling the hangar with another choking layer that blurred everything into a white-gray blur. Then came the flashbang, an explosion of light and sound so violent that Rena’s vision went white and her ears filled with a high-pitched ringing that drowned out everything else.

She dropped low, blinking hard behind her mask, disoriented. Even through her closed eyes, she could still see the afterimage, a burst of blinding light imprinted behind her lids.

The gunfire stopped.

“Move,” Cal whispered through the comm, barely audible through the ringing. “Find them. Take them out if you have to.”

Rena forced herself up, her legs shaky but steadying fast. The air was a swirl of chemicals and haze, disorienting in every direction. She glanced to her right and saw Gage’s outline, broad shoulders, weapon ready. Sheriff Chase was just behind them, her stance sharp and sure despite the sensory chaos.

Rena gave Gage a quick hand signal, together, and he nodded, the faint gleam of his eyes through the mask locking on hers. They started forward, staying low, careful. Every footstep crunched over debris. The sound felt magnified, swallowed by the dense fog.

Somewhere to the left, Cal and Garrett peeled off, slipping into the deeper shadows of the hangar.

Rena could still feel the echo of the flashbang vibrating through her skull. Her pulse was thunder in her ears. Every instinct screamed that someone was waiting for them in the smoke. Watching, waiting for their next move.

Shapes emerged through the haze. Solid, fast, armed.

Two men, full tactical gear. Gas masks. Night-vision goggles. Just like she’d guessed. They moved like soldiers, disciplined, confident in the dark.

Rena didn’t hesitate. The first muzzle flash split the fog, a round zipping past her shoulder. She dropped to one knee, returning fire. Her shot hit center mass.

One down.

The second thug pivoted toward her, rifle raised, and then Sheriff Chase fired, dropping him before he could pull the trigger. The echo of gunfire ricocheted off the metal walls, swallowed in smoke and chaos.