Chapter 11 Mila
Mila
Location: Forest Perimeter — Under Fire
Time: Continuous
The air snaps with gunfire.
Not chaotic.
Not sloppy.
Controlled.
That’s what terrifies me.
These men aren’t spraying bullets and hoping for a hit.
They’re aiming.
Tracking.
Adjusting.
“They’re herding us!” I shout, ducking behind a fallen log as bark explodes inches from my face.
Jase drops beside me a second later—too close, too solid, too there.
“They’re not herding,” he says, already reloading. “They’re closing.”
I risk a glance.
Three positions.
Left flank—two shooters.
Right—elevated.
Front—
My stomach drops.
“They’re funneling us into a kill zone.”
“Yeah,” he says calmly. “I noticed.”
Of course he did.
Another shot cracks past us.
Closer.
Too close.
I fire back—controlled, precise—dropping the elevated shooter before he can reposition.
“One down,” I say.
“More coming.”
Always.
There are always more.
I shift, preparing to move—
—and Jase grabs my arm.
Firm.
Instant.
“Not that way.”
I freeze.
Not because of the grip.
Because of the tone.
That wasn’t a guess.
That was certainty.
“…how do you know?” I ask.
His jaw tightens.
“They’re waiting for you to go left.”
My pulse spikes.
“You can’t know that.”
His eyes flick to mine.
Dark.
Focused.
Certain.
“I do.”
That—
That is not a comforting answer.
Another round hits the log, splintering wood into my face.
No more time.
“Fine,” I snap. “Then where?”
He nods forward.
“Through.”
Of course.
Always through.
“…you’re unbelievable.”
“Move.”
We break cover together.
Fast.
Low.
Deadly.
Gunfire erupts immediately—exactly where we would have been if I’d gone left.
My chest tightens.
He was right.
He knew.
How?
I don’t get to ask.
A man steps out from behind a tree—too close—
Jase fires first.
Two shots.
Center mass.
Clean.
Efficient.
Lethal.
But the recoil—
His body jerks.
Just slightly.
But I see it.
“Jase—”
“I’m fine,” he snaps.
Liar.
We reach the next line of cover—barely.
I turn on him instantly.
“You’re bleeding.”
“I’ve been bleeding.”
“That’s not the same thing!”
Another shot cracks overhead.
Too close.
Too exposed.
I grab his vest, dragging him lower.
“Stop arguing with me and stay down.”
He stares at me.
Like I just crossed some invisible line.
Like he’s deciding whether to fight me—
—or listen.
“New rule,” I say, voice low, sharp. “You don’t get to die on me today.”
A beat.
Gunfire.
Breathing.
Tension.
Then—
“…wasn’t planning on it.”
Good.
Because I’m not planning on letting him.
I peek over the ridge again.
Count.
Adjust.
Think.
This isn’t random.
This isn’t just a team sent to clean us up.
This is—
Coordinated.
Timed.
Predictive.
“They knew we’d leave at first light,” I say.
“Yeah.”
“They knew the direction.”
“Yeah.”
“They knew how you move.”
That—
That gets his attention.
Silence stretches between us.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Realization hits at the same time.
“This isn’t just about me,” I whisper.
“No,” he says.
“It’s your side too.”
His jaw locks.
Hard.
And there it is.
The truth we’ve both been avoiding.
“They’re not just inside my intel network,” I say.
“They’re inside mine.”
Another wave of gunfire tears through the trees.
Closer.
Tighter.
Final push.
“They’re collapsing the perimeter,” Jase says.
“I know.”
“Then we don’t let them.”
I look at him.
Really look this time.
Blood.
Pain.
Control.
Resolve.
And something else.
Something that wasn’t there before.
Trust.
Not complete.
Not safe.
But there.
“…you better keep up,” I mutter.
His mouth almost curves.
“Try to stop me.”
We move.
Together.
Not separate.
Not fighting each other.
For the first time—
Fighting with each other.
And somehow—
That’s more dangerous than anything else out here.