“Why? Because Ellery wants me dead, so I must not be the leak?” Low blow,

but it served as a reminder, to both of us, of what brought us to here and now.

“I never thought you were the leak, Cyn.”

“Whatever.” I looked away, unsettled by his admission. “Do I have to sign

something in blood before I open this?” No military or quasi-military outfit would grant full access without some sort of leverage.

Exasperation flashed across his face. “Read the file, then ask Delacourt

whatever the hell you want.” He turned and disappeared down the hall.

Refusing to acknowledge the flash of shame at provoking him, I headed to the small patio. I needed some privacy. I closed the French doors behind me, knowing the partially open blinds on the glass would let the guys know where I

was without feeling like they were looking over my shoulder. Going through this

file would be akin to walking through an emotional minefield. No way did I want either one of them witnessing resulting damage.

Two faded wooden Adirondack chairs sat on either side of a small, square table. I dropped into the first one and opened the file. A collection of garish photographs fell across the surface and tumbled into my lap. “Dammit.”

I began gathering those that had fallen and setting them next to the others, trying hard not to really look at them yet. It wasn’t until I picked up the one that had fallen half under my chair that I reconsidered being out here alone.

I stared at the horrific image as it shook in my hand. The twisted, burned body in glaring color snapped the chains holding back the past. Nausea and horror climbed the back of my throat, choking me. The sun-washed wilderness

faded away only to be replaced by that cursed alley half a world away.

Night had fallen quick and hard in the desert. There were no streetlightsoffering pools of resistance in this two-camel town, only shifting shadows andshades of darkness.

Our eight-person team had split into two smaller teams of four, better tocapture our target in a pincer move. My NVGs, night vision goggles, were agodsend, but they impeded peripheral awareness.

The four of us spread out, covering as many angles as we could as we moved

in. Sound traveled, so we relied on silent hand gestures and maintained radiosilence. Ortega took the lead with Tag on his heels. Behind me, Flash watchedour six. Together we made our way into a narrow alley.

Crumbling mud walls stretched around us, blocking out what little moonlight

existed. Our best vantage point lay at the ally’s end, where the two buildings

faced the open area of the small village and provided an optimal line of sightinto the supposed meeting place. The other team, led by Kayden, should bemaking their way from the other side, cutting down the possible escape routes ofour tango.

Instead of my camera, my hands were wrapped around my M162A. The

camera would come out once we were in place. Uneasy, I kept my attention onthe shifting shadows. Something felt off. We all knew it, but not one of us couldpinpoint it. Unfortunately, until we could tag it and bag it, we were under orders.

We were almost to the end of the alley when death stepped forward andturned a simple operation into a nightmare.

Ortega went down first. The sharp crack of a sniper rifle echoed as his body

crumpled to the ground. Shouted questions and the short, staccato pops of rifle

fire came through the radios. Both teams were under attack.

Time warped, and shock froze me in place. Between one blink and the next,

the heavy shadows resolved into black-clad assailants. The night erupted intoharsh breathing, curses, and the heavy sound of flesh and bone meeting.

Chaos reigned.

I caught a brief glimpse of Tag struggling with two unknowns. Behind me,the sounds of fighting rose, merging with the clamor ringing in my ears. Then I

was too busy trying to stay alive to notice anything else. I managed to block thefirst strike with my M162A, but the fucker I faced was stronger than I expected.

Faster, too. Unnaturally so.

My rifle went flying as the brunt of the hit sent searing pain through my hand

and wrist. My head rocked to the side with the next hit, and the din in my eardisappeared as my radio flew into the night. My world narrowed to a flurry offists, kicks, and dodges. He matched every move I made, and it didn’t take long

to recognize his military training.

Covered in black material from head to toe, only his eyes were visible. Notthat it did me any good. Darkness made it difficult to determine color. Taller,heavier, those things I could identify, but nothing else. His hits becameprogressively harder, striking vulnerable parts of my body. They fell with suchprecision and accuracy, it wasn’t long before he dropped my ass with a well-

aimed kick to my thigh. The bone snapped under the blow and my visionwhitened. I barely registered the next few strategically placed blows. Painsoared past any threshold I’d previously held and became all encompassing.

When my head hit the ground, I lost track of time.

Sight winked in and out. The unrelenting bitch of pain turned my leg into a

useless weight, and my ribs were their own vicious weapon, keeping my breaths

shallow. My vision wavered, but not enough to miss Ortega’s sightless eyes orthe spreading pool of blood glistening like an oil slick around his head.

Frantic, I forced my hands under my chest and shoved. My right wristcrumpled, and fire lanced across my chest as I landed on damaged ribs. Searing

agony triggered a choked scream. Panting, I forced myself to dig deep and keep

going. Gravel bit into my damaged hands, but I managed to drag my body closer

to Ortega.

“Ortega?” My voice shook, so did the crippled hand I pressed to his neck.

Nothing.

Cracks of gunfire punctuated the night. I lifted my head, hoping to locate the

rest of the team. My vision wavered and twisted, but somebody lay at the head ofthe alley, motionless. My heart clenched.