Chapter 69 Elara

Elara

The city narrowed around us until it felt like the walls themselves were pushing us forward. Every alley spilled shadows, every rooftop whispered Hydra’s presence. The further we moved, the more it felt like the streets weren’t ours—they were his. Roger Grand’s.

And that thought cut deeper than the bullets sparking off stone.

Beckett moved in front of me, steady, relentless, his rifle spitting fire into the dark.

He was all angles and focus, the kind of soldier Hydra could never cage.

But every step forward made my chest ache.

Because I knew the truth—Grand didn’t want to kill me here.

He wanted me dragged back alive. And Beckett…

he’d burn with me before he let that happen.

The Team moved like a storm around us. River cursed into his comms as he cut Hydra men off the right flank.

Oliver’s bursts were precise, cold, dropping anything that moved in the shadows.

Gage laughed through the chaos, dragging one soldier into the light before breaking him with a single, savage strike.

Cyclone muttered coordinates, his voice clipped but calm, feeding us the angles Hydra thought they controlled.

But no matter how hard we pushed, Hydra kept pressing closer. A tide we couldn’t outrun.

A rocket screamed overhead, slamming into a warehouse wall. The blast shook the ground, raining brick and dust into the street. My ears rang, my knees buckled, and for a heartbeat, the world tilted.

Beckett’s hand was there instantly, hauling me up, his arm steady around my waist. “I’ve got you.”

His voice cut through the chaos, anchoring me even as fear clawed at my chest. I looked up at him, sweat and soot streaking his face, his eyes blazing with something more than just the fight.

“You can’t keep throwing yourself at them,” I shouted over the gunfire, the words tearing out before I could stop them. “They’ll kill you, Beckett!”

“Not before I kill every last one of them,” he growled, pressing me against the cover of a half-collapsed wall. His hand brushed mine, grounding me again. “They don’t take you. Not tonight. Not ever.”

Something broke in me then—not in fear, but in certainty. Because Hydra wasn’t just chasing me anymore. They were chasing us.

I lifted my pistol, chambered a round, and took the shot at the Hydra soldier trying to flank from the left. He fell hard, his rifle clattering across the ground. My hands shook, but my aim didn’t falter.

“Together,” I whispered.

Beckett’s eyes caught mine in the firelight, and for a heartbeat, even surrounded, I felt stronger than I ever had.

But deep down, a shadow lingered. Because I knew Grand. And I knew this wasn’t the end of his trap.

It was only the beginning.

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