Halverson stared down at the unconscious officer as if the ground beneath him had just cracked apart.
The man lay sprawled on the concrete floor, blood leaking from a cut above his brow, breath shallow.
His mask lay beside him black cloth marked with a red s***h.
The symbol of the Severed Path.
Kira dragged another attacker into the light, ripping off the mask.
Another familiar face.
Another officer.
Halverson’s own men.
His own leadership.
His own inner circle.
He whispered, “This can’t be happening.”
“It is,” Kira said. “And judging by the hit squad they sent, this is only the opening move.”
Halverson ran a hand over his face, jaw tight, eyes burning with betrayal and something deeper fear.
Not fear of death.
Fear of losing the Wastes.
“They infiltrated your command,” I
