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Marcus leapt in with the Desert Eagle, and for a few moments everyone was deaf. The nickle demon was more of a hand-cannon than an actual pistol. By the time we’d kicked the smoke round back downstairs, two more of Kyrkos’s men lay crumpled in the upper landing.

“This way,” Randall indicated, nodding through a Gothic arch.

We leapfrogged our way through a long dormitory, covering each other nicely. Marcus’s moves came with smooth, practiced ease. He fit in like he’d been part of our original team, or—

“HOLD!”

Halfway down, three people came flying at us. Two wore non-tactical uniforms, one was a woman. All three were in-house staff. I motioned them quickly down the staircase, hands still on their heads.

Randall pressed forward, with Marcus just behind him.

“Stay tight.”

We passed through the refectory. Two long tables ran the left and right sides of the room, flanked on each side by a fixed bench. And beyond that…

“THERE!”

Another staircase came into view. We were nearly at the top.

Randall crept up slowly, shotgun racked. He reached the edge of the chamber, when suddenly…

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Three shots rang out, in rapid succession. I saw Marcus run. Not backward, but forward… directly at the man who was shooting at him.

CRACK!

He took another hit to the chest, glancing off the Kevlar surface of his tactical armor. I saw blood this time. The Ranger managed to get one hand on the shooter’s wrist, shoving the gun upward.

CRACK! CRACK!

His other hand wrapped around the man’s throat.

“Unnnggggffff!”

Marcus shoved, and the man fell backwards, striking the wall. He absorbed two more punches. The pistol fell from his hand…

“Step back!” I shouted. “Step back, I got him—”

“NO.”

Marcus leaned in with his body, crushing the man beneath his weight. I saw him fall flat against the floor. Heard the sickening crack of multiple ribs…

By the time his assailant regained any semblance of control, Marcus had a full mount position on him.

“WHERE IS SHE?”

The Ranger raised the Desert Eagle high overhead, threatening to bring it down on his face. The man only wheezed and gasped.

“TELL US WHERE SHE—”

“He can’t talk yet,” Randall said. “You knocked the wind out of him!”

Marcus slowly lowered the pistol, his whole body shaking with adrenaline. He grabbed the man by the neck again… then stopped.

“Riker...”

The Ranger’s shoulders slumped in what looked like disappointment, or exasperation. He let go of the man completely and stood up.