Chapter One Hundred and Eighty- Six
They hadn't given a warning. If he'd known… no, there were no excuses. He should've been ready, always. And yet, of all the days, they had to strike today, today, when he had left his room without even checking his gun. The weight of that lapse pressed down on him like ice.
His jaw tightened.
"Fuck."
He slammed the magazine back in anyway. Two bullets were enough, if he didn't waste them. If he didn't hesitate. He would kill the first man, rip the gun from his hands, then the next, and the next after that.
Around him, men scrambled, diving behind vehicles, walls, anything that could offer cover. Gunfire split the air, controlled but relentless, a deadly rhythm he recognized. The Villa wasn't surrendering without a fight.
He leaned out just enough to scan.
Three vehicles through the main gate. Another two swinging wide, trying to flank. He could tell she was testing him, probing for weak spots.
Of course, she was.
He fired once.
