Chapter 44 Mila
Mila
Glass shatters.
The first shot punches through the window, spraying shards across the floor.
I’m already moving.
Gun up. Body low. Mind clear.
No hesitation.
No fear.
Just target… and eliminate.
Jase fires first.
Two shots.
Controlled. Precise.
A man drops outside before he even clears the porch.
“Left side!” I call.
“I’ve got it!”
More gunfire erupts, ripping through the walls. Wood splinters. Plaster explodes. They’re not holding back.
Not trying to take us.
Trying to erase us.
Figures.
I pivot, firing through the broken window. One—two—three rounds. A shadow jerks back. A body hits the ground.
More incoming.
Too many.
“They’re flanking!” Jase growls.
I see it.
Two breaking right. Three pushing left. Another team hanging back near the vehicles.
Coordinated.
Professional.
And very, very wrong.
“They knew,” I say.
“Yeah,” Jase mutters. “They knew.”
Which means the moment I opened that channel…
We lit up.
No surprise.
Still not backing down.
“Inside!” he snaps.
We move deeper into the safehouse, using the narrow hallway to funnel them. Tight quarters. Limited angles.
Better odds.
For us.
Boots pound outside. A door crashes open.
They’re in.
I steady my breathing.
Wait.
Wait—
First one rounds the corner.
I fire.
He drops.
Second one tries to follow.
Jase takes him out before he clears the frame.
We fall into rhythm.
Like we’ve done this a thousand times.
Because we have.
But this?
This feels different.
This feels like the end of something.
Or the beginning.
Hard to tell which.
Gunfire echoes through the house.
Then—
A new sound cuts through the chaos.
Low.
Heavy.
Growing louder.
Jase’s head snaps slightly.
“You hear that?”
I do.
And for the first time since this started—
A flicker of something hits.
Not fear.
Not exactly.
Something sharper.
Hope.
Outside—
Headlights blaze through the storm.
Not one vehicle.
Multiple.
Fast.
Aggressive.
Unstoppable.
Tires tear across gravel.
Engines roar.
And then—
The night erupts.
Automatic fire rips through the attackers from the outside.
Clean.
Controlled.
Devastating.
One of the men in the hallway jerks violently as rounds punch through him from behind.
He drops before he even knows what hit him.
Jase blinks once.
Then—
A grin.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
“About damn time.”
I don’t lower my weapon.
Not yet.
Because we still don’t know—
Friend or enemy.
But then a voice cuts through the storm.
Commanding.
Familiar.
“Delta Five! Move!”
Everything in me stills.
Recognition hits instantly.
And something in my chest loosens.
Just a fraction.
Outside, the fight shifts.
Fast.
Efficient.
This isn’t a battle anymore.
It’s a takedown.
I edge toward the doorway, weapon still up.
Jase right behind me.
We step out onto the shattered porch.
Rain soaks us instantly.
Cold.
Sharp.
Real.
Bodies are down across the yard.
The remaining attackers don’t last long.
They never stood a chance.
Because Delta Five doesn’t show up unless it’s already over.
Ethan Cross moves first through the chaos, weapon still up, scanning.
Behind him—Jonah, Lance, Cal, and Ronan.
A full team.
Locked in.
Lethal.
Unmatched.
Ethan’s gaze lands on us.
Sharp.
Assessing.
Then—
“You two always throw the best parties,” he calls over the storm.
Jase huffs out a breath beside me. “You’re late.”
Ethan smirks slightly. “Traffic.”
Typical.
But his expression shifts almost immediately.
Serious now.
Focused.
He steps closer.
Eyes flicking between us.
“You activated something you weren’t supposed to,” he says.
Not a question.
A statement.
I hold his gaze.
“Yes.”
Silence stretches for half a second.
Then—
“Good,” he says.
That catches me off guard.
Jase too.
Ethan nods once toward the house.
“Because whatever you just sent up the chain?” he continues, voice low, “it hit.”
My pulse spikes.
“How hard?” Jase asks.
Ethan’s expression darkens.
“Hard enough that people are already disappearing,” he says. “And not the ones you want.”
Not good.
Not good at all.
I glance back toward the table inside.
The device still running.
Still connected.
“We need confirmation,” I say. “Direct. Not filtered. Not intercepted.”
Ethan studies me for a second.
Then gives a short nod.
“Then we lock this down,” he says. “All the way.”
Jase shifts beside me. “Meaning?”
Ethan’s gaze sharpens.
“Meaning we don’t just protect the data,” he says.
His eyes flick between us.
“We protect the two of you.”
The weight of that settles hard.
Because if Delta Five is saying that—
Then this is bigger than we thought.
Bigger than corruption.
Bigger than money.
This is control.
At the highest level.
And now—
We’re standing right in the middle of it.
Jase’s hand brushes mine briefly.
Not soft.
Not hesitant.
Solid.
Grounding.
I don’t look at him.
Don’t need to.
I already know.
We’re not backing down.
Not now.
Not ever.
Ethan steps back, already shifting into command mode.
“Secure the perimeter!” he calls. “Sweep for survivors. I want eyes on everything! Let’s clean this mess up.”
The team moves instantly.
Precise.
Relentless.
I turn back toward the storm, rain soaking through my clothes, weapon still in my hand.
War just escalated.
And this time—
We’re not just fighting to survive.
We’re fighting to expose everything.