Page 62 of Tag (The Golden Team #9)

Tag

T he dark was our enemy now.

Gunfire rattled from the ridge, ricocheting off metal and dirt, but it wasn’t meant to kill—it was meant to herd. I could feel it in the way the shots cut off every path but one, forcing us deeper into the yard.

“They’re funneling us,” I said into my radio.

“I know,” Gideon’s voice came back, grim. “I’ll break left, draw fire. You keep her moving.”

“Copy.”

He didn’t wait for me to argue. One second, he was beside us, the next, he was gone, sprinting into the dark, his rifle barking sharp bursts that drew the snipers’ attention.

It worked—briefly. The fire shifted toward him, and I shoved Aponi forward. “Go. Between the containers. Now.”

We wove through a narrow alley of rusting steel walls, my boots splashing in puddles of stagnant rainwater. Every sound seemed louder here—our breathing, the clink of gear, the distant crunch of boots that weren’t ours.

Halfway through, a shadow broke from the darkness ahead. Too fast to be anyone but Graves’ men.

I fired, the muzzle flash lighting his mask for a split second before he went down. Another followed, then another.

“Tag—” Aponi’s warning was sharp, panicked.

Arms shot out from a side gap, locking around her waist. She was yanked off her feet before I could reach her. Her gun clattered to the ground.

“No!”

I barreled forward, slamming into the man and driving him into the wall hard enough to make the metal groan. He tried to twist away, still holding her, but I caught his wrist and wrenched until bone gave way with a sickening crack.

He screamed and let go. I shoved Aponi behind me, keeping my body between her and the threat as two more figures appeared in the alley’s mouth.

“This is it, sweetheart,” one of them taunted, voice muffled by his mask. “Graves wants you back in his hands—”

He didn’t finish. My rounds cut him down mid-step. The other turned and bolted.

“We move,” I barked, grabbing her hand. “Don’t stop for anything.”

We broke into the open yard, sprinting toward the SUV. Gideon’s voice crackled in my ear. I’ve got eyes on you. Three more inbound from the west.

“Light it up,” I ordered.

The next second, the night erupted in controlled bursts of rifle fire from Gideon’s position, dropping the last of Graves’ advance team.

We dove into the SUV, the engine already roaring. As Gideon floored it, I looked at Aponi. She was pale, breathing hard, but her chin was up.

“You okay?”

Her answer was steady. “Not until Graves is dead.”

I didn’t tell her I agreed. I just held her gaze long enough for her to see it.