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Rafe’s jaw shifts. “Aye.”

Saint grips the back of my neck for a brief second as I pass him, anchoring me with a brief kiss to the forehead before he lets go.

“Watch your back,” he says.

Dane pats me on the shoulder. “Try not to shoot Rafe. We know he’s a spare dick, but he’s still ours.”

“Fuck you,” Rafe mutters when we spill into the yard behind Murphy and Eamon while Cal takes the rear.

Smoke drags low across the concrete, the bitterness catching in my throat. One of the smaller freight sheds is burning, orange flames chewing through the edge of the roof.

A truck sits across the access road with its cab crushed against a concrete post, the driver’s door hanging open.

A body lies on the ground as if the driver was pulled out. Rafe clocks the scene at the same time I do.

“Keep moving,” he says.

Murphy takes the left side of the loading lane while Eamon covers the right. Rafe stays half a pace ahead of me.

A guy appears between two parked containers with his hood up and rifle raised.

Rafe fires before the man gets the sight level.

The shot catches him high in the chest and throws him back against the container.

Bullets crack and ping overhead. I scan left and right, then check the top of the warehouse, finding a figure hunkered low, rifle raised.

“Roof,” I shout, taking cover and aiming upward.

Rafe ducks, and I fire twice at the shape moving along the warehouse edge. The first shot sparks against metal. The second catches the man who folds out of sight.

Rafe glances back at me as a round punches into the container beside his head.

I keep low and hurry to his side, shooting behind him. Rafe twists, drops to one knee, and shoots past my shoulder.

“Christ, Rafe. Ya nearly took my ear off.”

“Don’t worry, it’s still there. C’mon, let’s move, Sera.”

We run for the warehouse where the side door has been forced open, the lock hanging loose from splintered wood.

Murphy enters first with Eamon behind him, while Rafe and I follow.

Inside, it’s dark except for emergency strips along the floor and the pulse of firelight coming through the high windows.

Rows of stacked pallets create narrow lanes.

Rafe raises two fingers, then points left.

I nod and take the right.

We advance slowly, keeping each other in sight through the gaps between pallets. Cal stays near the door.

A shadow moves near the loading office. I raise my weapon as a man comes out fast.

He grabs my elbow before I can fire and slams it against the frame. I drive my knee into his groin, twist under his arm, and smash the heel of my palm into his nose.

Blood spills over his mouth, and Rafe fires.