Page 26 of Forged in Fire
This is about to become a war zone.
I lead the third operative by three feet, account for bullet drop, squeeze the trigger on my exhale.
The shot takes him high in the chest, spinning him around before he collapses behind a generator housing.
Three down. Still too many left standing.
Searchlights sweep the ridge line, hunting for my position. I chamber another round and settle into a new firing position.
Professional assassin. Following orders. Completing contracts. That’s who I am.
Then why does this feel like the first honest thing I’ve done in years?
She breaks from cover, moving through shadows that seem to mask her completely. For a moment, she disappears from sight entirely.
She becomes shadow. Invisible.
That’s how she got in.
My crosshairs find the target easily. Range: six hundred feet. Clear shot. Perfect conditions.
One last shot. Mission complete. Extract and disappear.
I could still get away from this. The Guild would never ask questions.
But she’s running straight toward eight more armed guards positioned around the compound entrance.
She’s going to die.
The crosshairs drift from the contract target to track her movement.
Not if I can help it.
I systematically pick off the guards blocking her path. Each shot creates safe passage through what should be a killing field. My reload is mechanical while my mind races.
A lifetime of Guild training. Thrown away for a woman I don’t even know.
But I know enough.
The remaining guards adapt, using proper cover and suppressing fire. They’re learning my moves. This won’t last much longer.
Through the scope, Asguard makes a break for the main compound. Running from madness he created. Abandoning her to face consequences alone.
Coward.
My crosshairs find him again, but she emerges once more, shadows streaming behind her, chasing him toward more danger.
Still trying to save someone who proved he’s not worth saving.
I swing the rifle toward the compound guards instead.
She comes first.
When did that happen? When did she become more important than the contract?
More guards pour from the compound. I methodically eliminate threats, creating her path forward. Professional protocol dissolves into single-minded purpose.
My ammunition runs low. Doesn’t matter. I’ll use the knife if necessary. Bare hands if it comes to that.
