Page 2 of Cold Ignition

Niko was leaning heavily against Tane, one hand pressed against the dark stain spreading across his side.

Blood. Too much blood.

“Status?” Keanu asked.

A beat of silence. Then Niko’s voice came through the comms, tight but steady. “Still breathing.”

“Still bleeding,” Tane corrected.

“Minor detail.”

Keanu exhaled slowly through his nose. Reef was stubborn enough to walk off a bullet wound if it meant keeping the team moving.

That didn’t mean the wound wasn’t bad. Another figure appeared through the scope.

Crack.

Three down.

“More coming,” Keanu said.

“I see them,” Kael replied.

His voice carried something Keanu rarely heard. Calculation. Not about how to win the fight. About how to survive it. The enemy force was spreading wider now, cutting off the ridges, pushing Black Tide into the valley around the wreckage.

Herding them. Just like they had in the warehouse. Just like the kill box inside. Keanu felt something cold settle into his chest. This wasn’t just an ambush. It was a hunt, and they were the mother fucking prey.

“Boss,” Luca said quietly over comms. “You noticing the pattern here?”

Kael didn’t answer right away.

When he did, his voice was quiet. “Yeah.”

Another burst of gunfire ripped across the ridge. Keanu dropped flat as rounds snapped past his head, sparks kicking off the rock beside him.

“Sniper!” Tane barked.

Keanu rolled, repositioning behind a boulder. His eyes scanned the far ridge until he caught the faint glint of glass. There.

Crack.

The enemy sniper jerked backward and disappeared.

“Sniper down,” Keanu said.

“Nice shot,” Luca muttered.

Keanu ignored the comment, shifting his attention back to the valley below. Kael was already moving. He grabbed Niko’s arm and hauled him upright.

“Time to go,” Kael ordered.

“Go where?” Luca asked.

“Anywhere that isn’t here.”

Keanu slung his rifle across his back and slid down the ridge toward the others, boots digging into loose rock as he descended. The heat from the burning helicopter hit him full in the face as he landed beside them.

Up close, Niko looked worse. His shirt was soaked through. Blood slicked his fingers where he pressed against the wound. But his eyes were clear. Focused. Still running the mental map in that quiet brain of his.