The hum of Vera’s extraction vehicle barely masked the chaos Zara and Callum left behind. Smoke curled into the night sky, mingling with the acrid scent of gunpowder and burning metal. As the armored van sped down the darkened road, Zara slumped against the wall, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
"That was cutting it close," Callum muttered, inspecting a graze on his arm. "Gabriel's getting too comfortable playing the predator. Next time, he might get lucky."
Zara wiped blood—thankfully not hers—from her cheek and glared at him. "Then we make sure there isn't a next time. Gabriel’s leash is short. If we take out his handler, we cripple the Syndicate’s operations in this sector."
Vera’s voice crackled over the intercom. "Speaking of handlers, I’ve been digging. Gabriel answers directly to a woman named Selena Rourke. Former military, now running Syndicate logistics. She’s the one funneling resources into the western zones."