Page 352 of Rangers Mountain Rescue

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One of them turns.

Weapon up.

Desperate.

Not trained enough.

I drop him.

Another corner.

Another turn—

And then—

I see him.

Different gear.

Cleaner.

More controlled.

Command.

This is him.

This is the one.

The one calling the shots.

The one who ordered it.

The one who killed Tank.

He stops.

Turns.

Meets my eyes.

No fear.

No panic.

Just…

Recognition.

“Well,” he says calmly. “Took you long enough.”

Rage spikes.

But I keep it controlled.

Always controlled.

“End of the line,” I say.

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