Rina burst onto the rooftop, boots skidding against the concrete. The roaring helicopter blades sent dust and debris flying, the gusts whipping through her red hair.
And there he was.
Briggs bleeding, panting, gun shaking in his grip.
Across from him, Viper stood near the edge, her coat billowing, a smirk tugging at her lips. Behind her, the helicopter door was already open. Escape was seconds away.
"Briggs!" Rina barked, stepping forward. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"Couldn't let her go," Briggs gritted out, clutching his side.
Viper laughed. A cold, sharp sound.
"Touching, really," she mused. "But you're too late, Captain."
Rina's jaw tightened. Her fingers twitched toward her gun.
She had one shot at stopping this.