The rain had stopped by the time Leon reached the Sector Nine safehouse, but the air was thick with smoke and death.
Gunpowder lingered in the wind.
The front gate had been blasted open, jagged metal still smoldering. Blood streaked the walls in angry slashes, and the faint sound of groaning echoed from inside.
Serena stepped out of the car before it stopped completely, drawing her weapon with the ease of someone who had done it too many times before.
Leon followed, his own gun drawn, jaw clenched in grim silence.
They moved together, clearing each room with the precision of soldiers. But there was no time for strategy. This wasn’t an attack—it was a message.
They reached the inner chamber.
Three guards lay dead. One was barely alive, coughing blood.
Leon crouched beside him. “What
