The world erupted in gunfire.
Lena dove to the ground, clutching the USB drive tight in her fist as wood splintered and metal screamed. The air stank of burning oil and blood. Behind her, Jax was already moving, dragging her behind an overturned desk as another barrage ripped through the shack.
“They’re cutting off the exits!” he yelled, eyes scanning for a window, a backdoor, a miracle.
The old informant — Lena still didn’t know his name — crouched low with the shotgun, barking curses in Spanish. “You led them here,” he growled. “They followed you.”
“No,” Jax snapped. “They’ve been tracking everyone who ever helped Helena.”
Lena’s chest heaved. “We have to get out. This drive—”
“Is useless if you’re dead,” Jax finished. He grabbed a smoke grenade from his vest, yanked the pin, and h
