Page 2 of Echo’s Secret

Target one: guard on the fence line.

"Three."

Target two: guard near the east wall.

"Two."

Target three: second-floor window.

"One."

The lights go out.

The entire block plunges into darkness as Diesel cuts the power. For exactly three seconds, there's perfect silence. Confusion. The guards looking around, hands moving toward weapons but not fast enough.

Then Phoenix's voice cuts through the night: "Execute."

I squeeze the trigger.

The rifle kicks against my shoulder. Target one drops before the sound even registers. I'm already moving to target two: squeeze, breathe, another body falling. Target three appears in the window, silhouetted against emergency lighting inside. I take the shot. Glass explodes. He disappears.

Below me, all hell breaks loose.

The front entrance explodes inward as Brick and Phoenix breach with a battering ram. Judge and Saint hit the east wall with bolt cutters, tearing through the fence. Canvas and Ranger come through the west approach, moving fast despite Canvas's limp from his injury.

Muzzle flashes strobe in the darkness. Automatic weapons fire lights up windows. Someone inside is screaming orders—Demon, probably, trying to rally his men. Too late. We're already inside.

I keep tracking movement through my scope. A Viper appears in a doorway with a shotgun, and I drop him. Two more running across the courtyard toward cover, and I drop them both. My job isn't to storm the building. My job is to make sure nobody flanks my brothers while they do.

"East wing, three hostiles, second floor," I report into my mic. Quiet voice, just loud enough to be heard over the gunfire.

"Copy," Judge responds. I hear more shooting through the earpiece, then "Clear."

The battle unfolds below me like a chess game I've already studied. Phoenix and Brick push through the main hall. Canvas and Ranger clear the west wing room by room. Saint moves behind Judge, ready to patch anyone who needs it.

A Viper climbs onto the roof across from me, and tries to set up a sniper position of his own. I put two rounds through his center mass before he can sight in. He slides off the roof and hits the pavement three stories down.

"Canvas is hit," Ranger's voice cuts through the chaos. "Through and through, left thigh. He's still mobile."

"Keep moving,"* Phoenix orders. *"We don't stop."

I scan for threats. Find one emerging from a side door with an RPG. "Phoenix, your six, RPG," I say into the mic.

Brick appears from nowhere and tackles the guy before he can fire. They go down in a tangle of fists and violence. Brick is our enforcer for a reason; he thrives on this. Thirty seconds later, he stands up. The other guy doesn't.

My phone buzzes again in my pocket. Twice now. Someone really wants to reach me, but it will have to wait. Nothing exists right now except this scope, these targets, these brothers.

The firefight intensifies. The Vipers are fighting back hard, I'll give them that. But they're disorganized, panicked, already losing. We have surprise, superior planning, and nine men who've been waiting to end this.

I drop another Viper trying to escape through a back window. Then another setting up a machine gun nest on the roof. Keep my breathing steady, my hands calm, my mind clear. This is what I'm good at. Seeing patterns. Watching. Making sure my brothers know what's coming before it arrives.

"Second floor is clear," Judge reports.

"West wing secure," Canvas adds. His voice is tight with pain but steady.

"Main hall—" Phoenix cuts off mid-sentence. Then, with an edge of frustration: "Demon's running. Back exit. He's got a head start."

I swing my scope to the rear of the building just in time to see a motorcycle roar to life in the back alley. Demon, recognizable even from this distance. Two other Vipers with him, maybe three. They peel out before I can get a clear shot, disappearing around the corner and into the maze of back streets.