Page 34 of Victorious: Part 3

“Lift, Vibe, make your way out to the loadin’ dock,” I bark, wiping dirt and blood from my face. “I’m goin’ after the civilians.”

I don’t wait for backup.

I sprint toward the office wing, boots pounding over scorched concrete, smoke curling around me like a living thing.

“Torque, don’t—”

But I’m already moving, using the confusion and smoke for cover as I sprint across the warehouse floor. Bullets howl past my head, but I duck low, keep moving, following my instincts through the maze.

The office area is a glass-walled structure built into the corner of the warehouse. Through the smoke-stained windows, I see huddled figures, workers in coveralls and work shirts, not tactical gear. Real people with real families, mortgages, and dreams, caught up in Javier’s war.

No doubt being blackmailed to be here—that’s Javier’s MO.

Two cartel soldiers guard the entrance, their weapons trained outward at my approaching brothers. They don’t see me coming from their blind spot.

I drop the first one with a knife thrust between his ribs. The second spins toward me, but I’m already inside his reach, my combat knife finding his throat before he can pull the trigger. I slice with ease, his blood pouring down his body as he gasps for breath, dropping to his knees, the life draining from his eyes when he finally flops to the floor.

“Everyone on the ground. Hands where I can see ’em,” I shout as I burst through the office door.

Six workers—four men, two women—drop to the floor immediately. Their faces showing pure terror but also hope.They know I’m not with the Cartel.

“Are you hurt?” I ask quickly, checking each of them. “Any of you injured?”

“N-no,” one of the women stammers. “They told us to keep working. Said if we tried to l-leave, they’d k-kill us.”

“Well, you’re leavin’ now. Stay low, stay together, follow me outta here,” I tell them, and they rush along with me. But as I turn toward the door, more Cartel reinforcements flood into the warehouse.

A lot more.

Shit.

Just in case this goes south, I’d better call this in.

“Weather’s turning,” I call into my radio. “Repeat, weather’s turning for C1. We’ve got heavy reinforcements incoming.”

“Copy that, C1,” a female voice crackles through the static. “All stations, be advised C1 is compromised.”

Gunfire tears through the warehouse, the roar of bullets echoing like a goddamn thunderstorm trapped inside a steel drum. Smoke coils through the air, stinging my eyes and choking my lungs. Every breath I take feels like fire, and every second longer we’re here tightens the noose.

“Torque,” Trax’s voice crackles through my earpiece, static lacing the urgency. “I’ve got eyes on… fuck! At least twenty more are coming in from the rear. We’re getting boxed in, brother. We gotta go! We gotta go!”

I duck behind a toppled steel cabinet, taking a worker with me before another barrage of bullets slams into the wall beside me. “Negative,” I grit out. “We don’t leave without the civilians.”

A pause, then Sensei’s stern tone comes down the comms. “Brother—”

“That’s not who we are,” I growl. “We finish what we camehere to do.”

I spin and sprint low, weaving through crates with the six workers and shattered pallets until I find them. Four more warehouse workers huddled in a corner, eyes wide, hands shaking.

“You wanna live?” I bark, crouching in front of them. One of them nods with trembling lips. “Then you doexactlywhat I say. We’re movin’ as one. You stay on me like a second skin. You break off, you die.Clear?”

They nod, eyes locked to mine like I’m the only thread keeping them from unraveling.

My radio crackles. “We’re at the loading dock,” Surge shouts. “Pyro’s set to blow this place sky high. We gotta move.Now!”

“Then cover us,” I bark, waving the civilians to follow. “We’re comin’ in hot.”

The moment we move, the world explodes into chaos again. Bullets ping off the metal scaffolding above us while I charge through the smoke, the civilians clinging to my shadow. A female slips, and my hand is on her arm instantly, yanking her up, dragging her forward.