Page 24 of The Warrior's Salvation

“Exactly like a snake,” I confirm quietly. “And when he strikes again, it won’t be something we see coming.”

Draco nods soberly, catching my meaning clearly. “We’ll double-check security tonight. Make sure we’re airtight.”

“Good,” I say firmly, stepping back from the crate. “I’ll stick around a while, keep an eye out. Something feels off.”

Jasper claps a reassuring hand on my shoulder, his expression more serious now. “You worry too much, Loch.”

I’m about to reply, to brush off Jasper’s concern, when an abrupt crack echoes across the dockyard, freezing us all mid-motion. My blood chills instantly. Gunfire.

Draco’s eyes flash wide in shock, his hand going instantly to the weapon at his waist. “Ambush!” he shouts, and then the night erupts in chaos.

Bullets rip through the air, whizzing past us, splintering crates and ricocheting off metal containers. Jasper dives for cover beside me, pulling his gun free and firing back blindly into the smoky dark. Draco shouts orders as our men scatter and return fire, the docks instantly transformed into a warzone.

“How the fuck did they find us?” Jasper yells, voice barely audible over the chaotic gunfire. “They knew exactly where we’d be!”

“Doesn’t matter,” I snap back. “Keep firing and find some damn cover!”

I lean around the crate, heart pounding like artillery fire in my chest, and squeeze off several shots at shadows darting swiftly through the fog. Doyle’s men move like phantoms, precise and calculated. Bullets slice through the thick air around me, striking metal containers in violent, explosive bursts of sparks. The dock erupts into a battlefield of deafening noise—gunfire echoing from all sides, harsh shouts overlapping with the brutal crash of crates splintering into pieces.

One of our men collapses near me, his scream cut off sharply as blood sprays from his throat, painting the concrete with a violent crimson arc. I curse sharply, ducking lower, adrenaline roaring through me like fire. The fog clings to everything, turning figures into ghostly shapes, impossible to fully identify, impossible to truly fight back against. I grit my teeth as I fire again and again, each recoil slamming into my body with ruthless force.

To my left, another one of our guys drops to the ground, clutching at his side, eyes wide and panicked as blood pours between his fingers, pooling darkly beneath him. I try to shout orders, but the chaos swallows my voice, drowning it in gunshots and screams.

From somewhere deeper in the haze, I hear Draco roaring commands, his voice fierce yet distant beneath the storm of bullets. I pivot, pressing my shoulder hard against the crate, firing repeatedly into the darkness, aiming desperately toward any hint of movement.

Two shadows charge closer, emerging abruptly from the murk. I fire without hesitation, dropping one to his knees instantly, blood spilling from his chest. The second stumbles but keeps coming, eyes cold and focused. My pulse hammers wildly as I aim again, firing directly into his chest. His momentum carries him forward even as life leaves his eyes, and he collapses hard onto the ground at my feet.

Blood splatters my boots, hot and thick, seeping across the pavement. The violent crack of gunfire still fills my ears, numbing every thought except survival. More men fall, ours and theirs, until bodies litter the docks, each lifeless form marking the savage cost of betrayal.

The firefight is brutal. my muscles ache and my vision blurs with smoke and exhaustion. Just as I start to wonder how long we can possibly hold out, a sudden scream cuts through the chaos, frantic and filled with raw panic.

“Cops incoming!” one of our men screams suddenly, his voice panicked. In the distance, blue and red lights begin to flash ominously, slicing through the dark fog.

Draco curses, slamming his fist into the side of a shipping container. “Fuck. Move out! Move out now!”

I grab Jasper’s arm and haul him away from the crates, running in Draco’s direction as bullets hiss past us. We vault through the maze of stacked containers and duck into an alley beside the docks. The three of us sprint together, lungs burning, pulses racing with panic and adrenaline.

Finally clear of the immediate threat, we slow our pace slightly, breathing ragged, eyes scanning for signs of pursuit. Draco glances back over his shoulder, rage and disbelief twisting his features. “They knew exactly where we were storing that shipment. Exactly.”

“Which means someone on the inside is feeding information,” Jasper breathes, grimacing at the reality of the accusation. “No other explanation.”

Draco stops abruptly, turning sharply toward us both, his expression dark and furious. “There’s a mole. Someone close enough to know every detail.”

Draco’s words are sharp and bitter. Betrayal is staring us in the face like an invisible enemy more dangerous than Doyle himself. My jaw tightens, and a cold fury coils deep in my chest.

"Who the hell would turn on us like that?" Jasper asks, voice ragged with disbelief.

Draco’s gaze flicks between us, and I see the confusion, the betrayal he's feeling. "Someone we trust implicitly, someone close enough to know every shipment, every location."

I glance back toward the docks, red-and-blue lights flooding through the fog, police sirens wailing. My pulse pounds in my temples as the implication settles like ice through my veins.

"Find them, Lochlan," Draco orders coldly. "Do whatever it takes, because if we don’t root out this rat fast, Doyle will pick us apart piece by piece."

I nod grimly, tension knotting between my shoulders. "Consider it done."

But as we melt silently into the shadows, I can't shake the feeling of dread sinking deeper inside me—that the traitor could be anyone. And until they're found, none of us are safe. And if the risk has just been elevated, it means having to keep my cool while protecting Evie. Something I'm not sure I know how to do anymore.

17

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