It was a hauntingly quiet night, the sort of quiet that comes before a storm. Ethan stood outside the safe house window, looking down at the darkening streets with keen eyes. He had a gut feeling that they were running out of time. The game had altered with the sudden reappearance of a ghost from his past, and Moreau was drawing closer.
Lily was sitting on the couch, carefully and methodically putting rounds into a magazine. She had always understood that Ethan lived in a dangerous world, but now she was also a part of it. And she was not going to back down.
She broke the stillness by saying, "We must attack first."
Ethan turned and stared at her for a while. "That's the strategy."
"So let's not wait any longer." She clicked the magazine into position after sliding it into the rifle. "Let's get this done."
A little grin of approval brushed Ethan's lips. She had no fear. Powerful. In every important aspect, he was his equal.