Chapter 25: Abandoning the mission
Chapter 25
The squad moved like a unit, quiet, sharp, and practiced. Boots crunched against broken glass, their shadows stretching long in the flickering remains of streetlights overhead. The area looked like it had been through hell: burnt-out vehicles, blackened walls, entire storefronts caved in as though something massive had torn through.
Ronan kept his breathing steady. One hand on his sidearm, the others hovering near his gu. He scanned the streets, checking corners, rooftops, anything that looked off. His ears were tuned to the squad comms, but no one spoke. Even Felix, usually the one to crack a dumb joke under pressure, was dead silent.
Up ahead, Sienna raised a fist—halt signal.
Everyone froze.
She crouched and picked something up off the ground, holding it up between her gloved fingers. It was a piece of armor—melted, twisted, unrecognizable. And still smoking.
"Still fresh," she said through comms, her voice tight.
Hugo muttered, "Something went down here. Recently."
"Keep your eyes peeled," Sienna ordered. "We're not alone."
They split into formation—Mila and Hugo on the left flank, Felix and another operative on the right, Ronan close behind Sienna. Every alley looked like a trap. Every blown-out window felt like a sniper's perch. The deeper they moved in, the more Ronan's instincts screamed.
"Still nothing on thermal," Mila said. "No movement."