25. Hannah
Hannah
Nobody answers me.
Not Clay.
Not Russ.
Not even Gabriel.
Which tells me everything.
Because whatever Sentinel is—
It’s bad enough that trained operatives suddenly don’t know what to say.
The loading dock burns around us in pieces while smoke curls through broken concrete and gunfire echoes across the river district outside.
But inside?
Everything has narrowed down to one horrifying truth.
These people want me alive.
And that somehow feels worse than being killed.
The Sentinel operative watches me through the black mask.
Expressionless.
Inhuman.
“You were not informed of the program parameters,” he says calmly.
Program.
I hate that word now.
“What program?” I demand.
No answer.
Clay shifts closer beside me instead.
Protective.
Furious.
The Sentinel operative notices immediately.
“Your attachment to the asset has become problematic.”
Asset.
Again.
Clay’s laugh is cold enough to make my skin prickle.
“She’s a person.”
“Incorrect.”
That one word detonates the room.
Clay moves before anyone can stop him.
Fast.
Violent.
He slams the Sentinel operative into the concrete wall hard enough to crack it, rifle crushed between them, while every other weapon in the loading dock instantly comes up.
“CLAY!” Russ roars.
Too late.
Because I’ve never seen him like this before.
Not angry.
Past angry.
Terrifying.
The Sentinel operative recovers fast—too fast—and drives an elbow into Clay’s ribs.
Clay barely reacts.
Even injured, he fights like a man possessed.
The operative reaches for a sidearm.
Gabriel shoots him first.
The suppressed round punches through the operative’s shoulder, spinning him sideways.
Chaos erupts instantly afterward.
Gunfire explodes across the loading dock from every direction.
Sentinel operators open fire.
Gabriel’s team fires back.
Militia fighters scatter through the smoke.
Russ grabs me hard.
“MOVE!”
Clay shoots the wounded Sentinel operative twice more before dragging me behind overturned concrete as bullets rip through the loading dock.
My ears ring instantly.
The little girl screams nearby. She’s been here all this time.
Lucas pulls civilians toward the office corridor while Miles throws smoke grenades toward the entrance.
The loading dock disappears into white haze almost immediately.
“North exit!” Russ shouts.
Gabriel grabs my arm suddenly through the smoke.
“Not that way!”
Clay reacts instantly.
His knife flashes against Gabriel’s throat before I even process the movement.
“Touch her again,” Clay says quietly, “and I’ll finish what they started.”
Gabriel doesn’t even blink.
“Sentinel already controls the north exit.”
That stops all of us cold.
Outside, armored vehicles roar closer.
Heavy boots pound pavement.
And through the smoke—
Red laser sights suddenly cut across the loading dock walls.
Multiple.
Snipers.
Oh God.
Gabriel’s expression hardens.
“They’re deploying containment.”
Russ swears under his breath.
“What the hell is containment?”
Gabriel looks directly at me when he answers.
“No survivors.”
Ice floods my bloodstream.
The Sentinel operatives aren’t here to rescue me anymore.
They’re here to erase everything.
Everyone.
The realization crashes into the room all at once.
The civilians.
The militia.
Gabriel’s team.
Us.
Nobody leaves alive.
Clay’s grip tightens painfully around my hand.
“We’re getting out.”
The certainty in his voice punches straight through the fear trying to climb into my chest.
Because he means it.
Even now.
Even surrounded.
Clay Vincent fully believes he can drag me out of hell itself if necessary.
And somehow—
I believe him too.
Another sniper round tears through the smoke.
One of Gabriel’s operators drops instantly.
Headshot.
The loading dock erupts into more screaming and gunfire.
“We need hard cover now!” Lucas shouts.
Gabriel suddenly points toward the far end of the warehouse.
“Tunnel access.”
Russ looks sharply toward him.
“You know this place?”
“Yes.”
Not suspicious at all.
Clay’s eyes narrow.
“Why?”
Gabriel hesitates.
Wrong answer.
Then finally—
“Sentinel funded this district years ago.”
Oh my God.
The warehouse.
The militia.
The trafficking routes.
All of it connected.
The scale of this thing suddenly feels enormous.
Like we accidentally kicked open a door we were never supposed to find.
Clay grabs my face suddenly.
Firm.
Focused.
My pulse stumbles instantly.
“Hannah.”
The way he says my name—
Like I’m the only thing anchoring him right now.
“You stay with me,” he says roughly. “No matter what happens.”
Bullets slam into concrete nearby.
People scream.
Smoke burns my lungs.
But all I can focus on is him.
The fear in his eyes.
The desperation.
The love he hasn’t said out loud yet.
And suddenly I realize something terrifying.
If we survive tonight—
Nothing between us is ever going back to the way it was before.