The Night Assault
The safehouse shook under the repeated impact of gunfire. Glass shattered as the attackers masked, coordinated, precise broke through the perimeter. Sebastian shielded Isabelle instinctively, his body pressed against hers as he moved toward the hidden exit.
"Stay close!" he barked.
Isabelle's heart raced. The sound of bullets striking reinforced doors was deafening. Rain splashed against the windows, carrying the scent of earth and ozone. Every instinct screamed danger, every fiber of her being told her to panic.
But Sebastian was calm. Too calm. His movements were deliberate, precise, lethal in their control. He guided her through the bunker's narrow corridors, ducking low, avoiding cameras, checking every door.
She caught a glimpse of his eyes steel-gray, narrowed with focus. There was no hesitation. No fear. Only determination.
