Page 83 of Carter
I looked back to the men, my hand tightening on my rifle. “We hit the control node. Fast, precise, no wasted movement. Once their systems are down, we take out whatever’s left standing.”
River gave a curt nod. Cyclone chambered a round with a grin. Gideon’s fingers danced over his keys, preparing the digital strike.
I drew in one steady breath, the weight of Harper’s presence at my back anchoring me.
Then I raised my rifle, eyes locked on Redwood’s heart.
“Let’s finish this.”
133
Harper
The building loomed ahead like a sleeping giant, all concrete and shadows, and for a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe.
Carter’s voice cut through the fear—steady, commanding.“Let’s finish this.”
The men moved in sync, every motion sharp and silent, a language of signals and trust I didn’t fully understand but felt in my bones. Cyclone checked the door, River covering his six, Gideon crouched low with his tablet glowing like a tiny star.
And me—my knees pressed into the gravel, the strap of the medical bag digging into my shoulder. My heartbeat was thunder in my ears, my palms slick with sweat. But I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.
Because I wasn’t here to hide.
Carter looked back at me once, just for a second. His eyes locked with mine, fierce and unyielding, but underneath, I saw it—the flicker of fear he’d never admit out loud. Not fear of Redwood. Fear of losing me.
That fear was mine too.
I touched the bag at my side, gripping it tight. My hands weren’t on a rifle, but that didn’t make them useless. I had my part to play. If one of them went down, if Carter bled, I’d keep them standing. I’d keep him standing.
Gideon’s whisper cut the silence. “Systems blind. We’ve got ten minutes.”
Cyclone set the charge, a small block of explosives pressed against the reinforced lock. River signaled us down, his hand slicing the air. I ducked low, heart racing, the world narrowing to the faint red blink of the timer.
Three. Two. One.
The door blew inward, smoke and dust billowing into the night. Shouts erupted from inside, boots pounding, rifles snapping up. The air exploded into chaos.
Carter was the first through, a shadow of fury and steel. River and Cyclone followed, guns barking, Gideon already inside with them.
And me—I swallowed hard, then pushed forward into the smoke.
Because this wasn’t just their fight anymore.
It was mine too.
134
Harper
The world inside the building was fire and thunder.
Smoke curled through the air, thick with the sting of explosives and oil. The hallway stretched long and narrow, lit only by flashing emergency lights that pulsed red against the walls. Gunfire cracked, echoing so loud it rattled in my bones.
Carter moved ahead of me, a wall of motion and steel. Every time his rifle barked, another Redwood soldier hit the ground. River flowed beside him, calm and merciless, while Cyclone roared down the opposite side of the hall, his rifle booming like a cannon.
I pressed low, clutching the medical bag to my chest, my lungs burning with smoke. Fear surged with every shot, with every body that fell, with every ricochet sparking too close. But I kept moving.
Because stopping meant being left behind. And I refused to be left behind.
