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“Get them to safety, now!” Vapor barks, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. His posture radiates urgency.

“Vamonos, rápido,” Diablo urges, his voice low and steady as Slayer leads the flock of frightened souls toward safer ground.

Their footsteps fade into the distance, punctuated by the occasional sob or whispered prayer, but my focus is alreadyshifting, aligning with the task at hand. Inside that warehouse, danger lurks, but I’m more than ready for it.

As Vapor, Diablo and I stalk toward the building, the sound of squealing tires rips through the night air, yanking my focus from the warehouse’s dark maw back to the parking lot. A car skids to a stop, its headlights slicing through the gloom. A frantic woman emerges—a tempest in human form. Dark hair a wild halo around a face etched with panic.

“¡Espere!Who are you?” My voice slices through the air, commanding her attention as she bolts toward the warehouse, her elegant dress no match for the desperation in her stride.

“Please, you have to help him!” Her gaze locks onto mine with an intensity that sears straight through the chaos. “Pedro…mi esposo. He’s inside!”

“Pedro,” I repeat.

The name sends a silent alarm echoing through my skull. Pedro Hernandez gave us a description of the warehouse where the kids were being held. Without his help, we wouldn’t have found them so quickly. This woman must be Maria, his wife. I catch the unmistakable shimmer of love and fear in her eyes.

“Maria, listen,” I say, voice steady. “I’m Ice. I’m... with Isabella. I’ll get Pedro out, but you need to stay back. It’s not safe here.”

Her lips part, ready to protest, but the resolve in my stance is unyielding. I’m not about to let her walk inside, straight into a bullet. Her eyes search mine, as if she’s assessing her options. Finally, she nods, her body deflating with a shaky exhale.

“Okay, I trust you.”

“Stay back. We’ve got this.” I turn away, the weight of her trust settling onto my shoulders like twin anvils. As I step toward the building, my mind sharpens. The hunt is on, and every second counts.

Vapor, Diablo, and I slip inside the warehouse. Shots ring out between periods of eerie silence. The air is thick with the tang of gunpowder and fear, each breath a reminder of what’s at stake.

We edge forward, hiding behind boxes and shelves. The scent of chemicals and cocaine hangs in the air, mingling with the metallic bite of impending violence.

Through the dim haze, I spot them—Bones, Tank, and Fang, pinned behind crates barely thicker than matchsticks as bullets shred the air around them. The staccato rhythm of gunfire drums against my chest, a rapid heartbeat pulsing through the space.

“Cover me!” Bones grits out, his words laced with urgency as a bullet whizzes past, embedding itself into the wood an inch from his head.

“Got your back,” I call out.

Bones sprints toward a stack of wooden pallets, diving behind them and disappearing.

Locking eyes with Vapor, I help him lay down cover fire as Diablo heads in another direction. Once Diablo’s safe, Vapor and I slink further into the warehouse.

We spread out, moving with a predator’s grace. A cartel man pops his head out from behind a stack of supplies. I fire. He drops.

“Got more at six o’clock!” Vapor yells.

We unleash hell, shooting at the cartel thugs, dropping them like flies. Bones and Fang manage to get a couple of shots off before ducking back into their hiding spot.

I dart from cover, firing in controlled bursts that send cartel shooters scrambling. Vapor charges a group of men, a force of nature barreling through their ranks, his thunderous roar rivaling the gunshots. Across the room, Diablo’s a blurof motion, his shots precise, each one finding its mark with ruthless efficiency.

It’s a symphony of violence, orchestrated with the precision of street-hardened veterans. We weave between bullets and bodies, our assault relentless. Adrenaline surges through me, focusing my world into the only things that matter—the pull of a trigger, the recoil, and the fall of an enemy. We are justice’s dark agents, delivering retribution with every round fired.

“Push forward!” I yell.

Vapor’s response is a roar as he tackles a gunman to the ground, a savage fury unleashed. Diablo’s laughter rings out, not of joy but a promise of retribution as he dispatches another with a swift, final movement.

Bullets fly, embedding themselves in the splintering wood just inches from where our brothers are still pinned down. Bones pops up, firing wildly. The second he disappears, Tank takes his offensive position. Fang is next, covering his brothers while they reload. If I can get to them, we’ll have a better chance of rescuing them.

“Cover me, Vapor!”

With a surge of power, I break from my makeshift cover. Vapor unleashes a barrage of shots, providing suppressive fire that echoes through the cavernous space. Diablo flanks wide, taking down another gunman with practiced ease as I dive behind the crates.

Bones grins at me. “Welcome to the fuckery!”