Chapter 15 Ava
Ava
We move before anyone says go.
Delta Five spreads out around us, slipping through the trees like shadows—no wasted motion, no sound beyond the soft crush of boots on damp ground.
They don’t need to talk.
They already know where each other will be.
The house comes into view through the trees.
Still.
Too still.
No movement in the windows.
No sound inside.
My stomach tightens.
“They pulled back,” I whisper.
Ronan doesn’t even look at me.
“No,” he says quietly. “They repositioned.”
Yeah.
That feels right.
Ethan glances at me, just for a second.
“You ready?”
I don’t answer.
I’m already moving.
We hit the house hard.
The door explodes inward under Ronan’s boot—wood splintering, echo cracking through the structure—
Weapons up—
“Clear left!”
“Right clear!”
Gunfire erupts instantly.
Two shooters burst from the hallway—
Cal drops one before he gets a second step—
Jonah takes the other mid-turn—
Both go down fast.
Clean.
Like they never had a chance.
Ethan is already ahead of me.
Of course he is.
We take the stairs two at a time—
And that’s when it hits—
They knew.
A figure swings out from the kitchen—
Too close—
Too fast—
I fire—
The shot cracks through the room—
He drops—
But not before a round slams into the wall beside Ethan’s head—
Plaster explodes outward.
My pulse spikes.
“Watch it!” I snap.
“I’m good!” he fires back.
Not funny.
Not even close.
We clear the house fast.
Room to room.
Doors kicked open—
Corners checked—
Movement tracked—
Controlled chaos.
Then—
Petrov.
Still slumped on the couch.
Still breathing.
Barely.
Relief hits—
—and dies just as fast.
He’s not alone.
Two hostiles.
Already in position.
One turns—
Weapon up—
Ethan fires first.
The shot drops him instantly.
The second one reacts—
grabs Petrov—
drags him upright—
gun pressed hard against his temple.
“Drop it!” he shouts.
Everything freezes.
Half a second.
Too long.
My grip tightens on my weapon.
No angle.
No clean shot.
Ethan’s stance shifts—subtle, controlled—but I see it.
Ronan moves in behind us.
Cal flanks left.
Aaron to the right.
But no one fires.
Because we all know—
One wrong move—
Petrov dies.
The man’s breathing is ragged.
Eyes wide.
Unsteady.
Cornered.
“Back off!” he yells.
“Not happening,” Ethan says, voice flat.
The gun presses harder into Petrov’s head.
“He’s dead anyway!”
“No.”
My voice cuts through the room.
Sharp.
Controlled.
His eyes snap to mine.
There.
That’s it.
The opening.
Small.
Barely there—
—but enough.
I move.
One step—
shift—
fire—
The shot cracks—
clean—
center—
The man drops instantly.
No hesitation.
No second chance.
Petrov slumps forward.
Ethan catches him before he hits the ground.
“Got him.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
My pulse still hammering.
Ronan scans the room once more.
“Clear.”
Silence settles again.
Heavy.
Final.
And this time—
it holds.