The cold night air hit my face, smelling of damp earth and distant exhaust. The heavy door of the command van clicked shut behind me, plunging me into the shadows cast by the surrounding tall pine trees.
I slipped off the gravel path, sinking silently into the treeline. My damp hair was pulled back, the cool breeze biting at the back of my neck, but the adrenaline humming through my veins kept the chill at bay. I raised my pistol, keeping it low, and let my ears adjust to the quiet of the industrial outskirts.
Over the low hum of the van’s generator, I heard it—the heavy, uneven crunch of footsteps over dead leaves.
Two men. Moving fast, heads down, fleeing the chaos at the meatpacking plant and stumbling straight toward our perimeter.
I pressed my back against the rough bark of a thic
