The gunshot split the air.
Orla screamed.
Stanley fell back, blood spraying from his shoulder. He hit the concrete hard but rolled to cover before the next shot landed.
The Black Wolf stood calm, unbothered.
“Disappointing,” he said, lowering the gun. “You bleed like a man. Not a weapon.”
Orla raised her pistol and fired.
The clone ducked fast, disappearing behind a steel beam.
Stanley groaned, clutching his shoulder. “That bastard’s using my memories. He knows my instincts. He thinks like me.”
Orla crouched beside him. “Then how do we beat you?”
His eyes met hers. “You don’t fight the wolf. You starve him.”
She pulled him into the shadows, her mind already racing. Amira was still hidden in the crawl space. But for how long?
Footsteps echoed through the ruined bunker.
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