Page 107 of Zorro

The first Black Dawn fighter crested the stairs.

Bear fired.

A clean burst at center mass. The man dropped before his boot cleared the top step.

The second came fast behind him. Flint launched without command, a black streak of death and precision, latching onto the man’s rifle arm and dragging him down hard. Bear moved in, fired once to finish him, then pivoted right as a third emerged from the shadows.

Close range. Too close. They grappled, hard. Bear slammed the butt of his weapon into the man’s throat, heard the wet crack, and twisted away just as the fourth emerged with a blade.

Bear caught the arm mid-swing, wrenched it back, drove his elbow into the man’s jaw with such force the impact echoed off the concrete. He was a warrior. But his soul?

It was unraveling. The whole time, her voice still echoed in his ears. “The Great Spirit can’t have you yet.” God, he wanted to believe her. Wanted to believe he had a future outside of all this blood. But that meant believing in something he hadn’t let himself want in years.

Her.

Another shot rang out.

Bear reloaded without thinking, back-to-back with Flint now, bodies scattered, boot steps finally falling silent again.

He turned toward the rooftop door, breathing hard.

Bailee had gone to protect the civilians, and Zorro’s family was up there. He would make damn sure there was still a world left to bring them all back to.

After checking on Bear, Joker stood over the radio, which rested on the hotel desk that had been dragged to the center of the room. Around him, the team circled like coiled energy.

D-Day—the man could’ve been a goddamn architect—was sketching floor plans across the desk blotter, marking exits, probable placements, movement arcs.

Zorro stood behind D-Day, watching the sketches come to life in ink and intent, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles ached. Every second that passed made the silence in his chest where Everly belonged deafening. His family, his brother and nieces. But Bear had Bailee and his family. He would be there. He would make a difference. He had to believe it.

He held onto his sanity. If he let the panic rise, if he cracked even a little, he wouldn't stop until the whole hotel burned. So he locked it down. Steel on steel. He would find Everly. Bear would protect his family He would have them back. There was no other acceptable outcome.

His brothers were counting on him. Their lives, their backs, their wives and future plans, all of it rested on this op going clean.

So he let his fury bleed into focus. Let his fear become the blade.

He wasn’t the medic today.

He was the executioner.

“Rafael, this is our quickly formulated plan,” Joker said. “Gator and Professor are already on the snipers. I’ll call for movement once we’ve neutralized the rooftop.”

A beat of static. Then Leite’s voice crackled through, calm, clipped, resolute. “Once again, we’re in your debt. Understood. BOPE is positioned for breach. The moment we’re clear, we will move on your command. Tell your men…” A pause. Then something quieter, heavier. “Make it hurt.”

Joker gave a grim smile. “That’s the plan.” He turned to Migs and Sanchez. “Your two guys, control room. They’ll lock down elevator access, kill their ability to move reinforcements from the summit floor. No surprises. No exits.”

“Copy that,” Migs said, already loading mags. He looked at Sanchez. “Let’s do this.” They left the room.

Joker glanced toward Bree. “One of our operators’ wives, Bree, is an FBI agent. She will infiltrate in full bikini weapon mode. She IDs the guy with the detonator if he’s inside. Otherwise, she waits, and on my mark, she takes out the guards inside.”

“Your team’s tactics are…unconventional. But effective,” Leite said dryly.

Bree tied her hair back, calm as glass. Every man in the room shifted, trying not to look directly at her. Blitz looked like he might rupture an artery but gave her a reassuring look. He believed in her completely. Zorro couldn’t imagine how he was handling his wife going into such a dangerous situation. It took trust and courage to allow her to do her job.

Joker kept going. Smooth. Focused. “Izzy’s former CIA is going external. She’ll scale down from the roof to the street level. Look for fallback operatives, any outside kill switches, or remote triggers. She ends them before they blink.”

Izzy nodded, cool and deadly. “They won’t see me coming.”

“Once the explosive threat is neutralized,” Joker said, “we move.” He swept a glance over the core strike team, Blitz. D-Day. Buck. Zorro. “We sweep the lobby. Drop every guard still breathing.” Then his eyes locked on D-Day. “You disarm those fucking door charges.”

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