Page 113 of Silent Schemes
He considers arguing, then shrugs, walks to the back office, slamming the door.
That’s the cue.
Sienna doesn’t hesitate.
In the second Theodore’s footsteps fade, she's in motion.
She glides to the sweating guard and he never sees it coming.
She grabs his head, twists, a wet snap.
He drops, gun skittering across the concrete.
The twins move, but not fast enough.
Sienna’s already rolling, knife flicked from her boot, edge silver and mean.
She slashes one across the groin, then up, spilling him open.
His scream is drowned by the thunder of gunfire.
The last twin gets his rifle up, but she’s already inside his reach.
The knife drives through his trachea and he gags, blood fountaining over her hand.
I can’t do anything but watch, every sense sharpened by adrenaline and rage.
She keys through my chains with the dead man’s hand, wrist limp, but her eyes never leave the office door.
A shout from the back.
The door explodes open, Theodore’s voice high and brittle.
He’s got a gun in one hand, Maya in the other.
He holds the barrel to her head.
“Stop!” he roars.
Sienna doesn’t move.
I step in front of her, shielding by reflex.
Will tries to stand but collapses, leg a mess of broken tissue.
I see the blood leaking from his thigh—arterial, pulsing.
He has maybe minutes if we don’t stop it.
Theodore drags Maya forward.
She’s barely conscious, cheeks bruised, a line of blood from the corner of her mouth.
She tries to focus, but her eyes slip out of sync.
“Drop it, Sienna!” he shrieks.
She holds up her empty hands.
