Page 32 of Cold Ignition

Rangi exhaled slowly.

“We need him,” he said, voice low.

Alexios looked at him, something flickering in his expression. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “We do. For more than just to save our asses.”

The first of the enemy dropped through the broken floor above.

Then another. Weapons up. Eyes locked on target. Rangi shifted in front of Alexios without thinking.

If this was where it ended—then it ended with him between Alexios and the world.

The first shot rang out.

Not theirs.

Not the enemy’s.

Different. Sharp. Precise.

The man in front of them dropped before he could fire.

Rangi froze.

Another shot. Another body hit the ground.

Silence followed.

Then—

An engine. Low. Growing. Familiar.

Rangi’s head snapped toward the blown-out wall at the far end of the structure. Headlights cut through the dust.

Blinding.

The engine roared louder—

Then the car burst through the debris in a spray of concrete and steel.

Black.

Low.

Flames licking along the sides like something alive.

It didn’t slow, and the driver did not hesitate. It hit the remaining hostiles with controlled, devastating force, sending bodies scattering as it carved a path straight through the center of the room.

The car spun—tight, precise—coming to a stop inches from where Rangi and Alexios stood. The engine idled.

Heat rolled off it in waves.

The driver didn’t move at first.

Helmet on.

Visor down.

Unrecognizable.