Page 48 of Tracking Shadows

I take aim, firing a shot in his direction. He ducks just in time, and the bullet slams into the wall behind him. I grit my teeth.

“Sergei’s slipping out,” Katya’s voice crackles in my ear, barely audible over the chaos. “He’s heading for the back exit.”

I jerk my head up, scanning the room. Through the haze of smoke and gunfire, I spot Sergei’s unmistakable figure slipping through the fight, moving toward the far side of the warehouse.

The bastard’s trying to run.

My hand tightens around my gun as I shift, ready to go after him, but before I can make a move, I see Irina.

She’s on the opposite side of the room, and I can see her eyes locked on Sergei’s retreating figure. Even through the chaos, I know what she’s thinking. She’s going after him.

I shout across the battlefield, “Irina! No!” but the relentless gunfire drowns out my voice. I can see the determination etched on her face, her body already moving toward the back exit.

“Fuck!” I growl, watching as she disappears into the smoke, heading in Sergei’s direction.

I want to chase after her, to pull her back, but there’s no clear path through the fight.

More gunshots ring out around me, and I duck as bullets tear through the crates I’m using for cover.

“She’s going after Sergei,” I bark into the earpiece, swearing under my breath. “Don’t lose her from your sight. Irina is probably not thinking straight.”

“Noted,” Katya replies.

I grit my teeth as I fire off another shot, taking down one of Sergei’s men. I’m pinned down by the gunfire, unable to move forward, unable to follow Irina.

“Damn it, Irina,” I mutter under my breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I struggle to keep an eye on her.

Through the thick smoke, I see her figure disappear into the shadows, chasing after Sergei. My gut twists with a mix of fear and anger, knowing full well that she’s heading straight into danger.

“I’m going after her as soon as I can break through.”

Chapter 16 – Irina

The chaos in the warehouse is raging on, but my focus is narrowed to one thing—Sergei. I watch him as he slips through the fight, slinking toward the exit like the coward he is. Every muscle in my body tenses, and I try to hold it together, to stay focused on the plan, but the second I see him running, all the restraint I’ve been holding onto vanishes.

No. He’s not getting away. Not ever.

Without thinking, I push through the firefight, weaving between crates and bodies, ignoring the bullets flying past me. My gun is still hot in my hands, but I don’t fire. Not yet. Every fiber of my being is screaming for me to end this, but I need to get to him first.

“Irina, no!” I hear Alexei’s voice faintly through the chaos, but I ignore him. I’m not letting Sergei get away. Not if we may never have another chance.

Sergei ducks through a door at the far end of the warehouse, and I follow, pushing past the metal door as it slams shut behind him. My boots echo against the steel steps as I race upward.

I know where he’s going. He’s heading to the roof.

I reach the top of the staircase, throw open the door, and step out onto the roof. The cold night air hits me, sharp and biting, but I don’t stop. Sergei is already there, standing at the edge of the roof, his back to me. He turns slowly as I approach, a sick grin stretching across his face.

He looks at me and laughs. “This is what they sent to fight me?You?”

My grip tightens on the gun, but I hold my fire—for now.

Sergei reaches into his jacket and pulls out a gun of his own. “I’ll make this quick, little girl.”

He points the gun at me and pulls the trigger.

Click.

There’s no bullet.

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