The shots fired weren't from Charlotte.
They also weren't from me or Rebel.
In fact, as the sound echoed in my ears, I watched blood begin to seep from Charlotte's abdomen and further darken her black clothes. Her hazel eyes widened in what could only be described as fear, and before she could fire at us, Rebel leapt forward and yanked her guns away.
She fell to the floor in the same breath.
Legion stood directly behind her, a grimace upon his generally placid features. His attention didn't stay on us for long, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to determine why. More shots were being fired behind him, and he turned swiftly despite his hulking form. "C'mon, hooligans," he said gruffly. "We need to get out of here."
We both moved over Charlotte swiftly, shots firing loudly throughout the building as we followed Legion.
It didn't take long to find Sergeant; he was carrying a large gun that looked similar to those Charlotte had had, and he was using a wall for shelter.
While it also didn't take long to see who Sarge was firing it, it took longer than I'd care to admit for me to actually process what I was looking at.
Gray was standing there, with Ilga and Rashid on either side, firing at Sergeant.
I felt my stomach drop. The grip I had on my own gun tightened, and rather than allow myself to freeze, I raised my arm and fired.
Bang — one.
Rebel began to pull me by my free arm over to where Sergeant was. In my periphery I could see Sergeant and Legion exchange short words before Sergeant turned and disappeared down the hall. But my attention wasn't focused on my people.
In one shot, I had sent Ilga crumpling to the floor.
Gray's gaze was on Rebel and I now, and the hardness to his eyes was not foreign to me. He turned his gun toward me as Rebel continued to pull me out of the room.
Bang — two.
Rashid hit the floor next. As Gray began to fire at us, Rebel and I ducked behind the wall, but we didn't stop. Legion and Sergeant were already out of the building by the time we reached the stairs, and as luck would have it, Gray's mercenaries were not the only operatives he had on the premises.
Men in tactical gear came crashing in through the windows and the door. I let out a growl of frustration, and Rebel and I exchanged a fast look.
"I vote window," he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder toward the large windows behind us.
"I second that vote," I said, sliding my gun into its holster.
That was all that needed to be said between us. We took our running starts without fear, and when we crashed through the glass, I ignored the sharp burn of glass cutting across my hands and arms.
When you jump, every second until you land is crucial. You have to know how to land, or how to fall. If you get stiff legs, or you're not in control of your body, then you'll find yourself on the ground with broken bones.
And when you're jumping out of a second story window with no idea of what's on the other side of it, you have to think fast.
Every second counts.
It was a free-fall to the ground; the nearest building was too far to try and slide down. I mentally prepared myself for the landing, and as the ground rushed up, I took a steady breath in . . . out.
As soon as my feet hit the ground, I let my body roll. From my feet, to my lower legs, to my knees, to my hips. Though the initial impact was a physical shock to my system, I ignored it, and propelled myself back up to my feet.
Rebel was already on his feet, aiming up at the windows, anticipating any one of the Kinetic firing down at us. In turn, I aimed my own gun down the street, toward the direction the Kinetic had come at us initially.
Then the roar of an engine sounded behind us.
We both spun around in time to see a large black SUV rumbling toward us. It came to an abrupt stop just a few yards away.
Rebel and I both turned our guns toward it, though the driver's door swinging open gave us pause.
A tall, lanky teen with aptly styled strawberry blond hair popped up over the door and flashed a cocky smile at the two of us. His eyes were the color of sea-foam, and they crinkled at the edges in amusement. "'Sup, Alpha dogs?" Catatonic asked, his smirk causing both of his dimples to make an appearance.
The passenger side door swung open next, and a girl who was shorter than me, with broad shoulders and dark hair tied up into a bun granted us a less cheeky smile than her counterpart. "A little birdie told us you two were wrecking havoc again," Low snickered.
"That," Rebel said, waving between the two of them, "is the last thing I was expecting to see. More Kinetic idiots trying to kill us, sure. Bravo playing the heroes, yeah, even that would be believable."
"A'right, you four, enough chitchat!" I heard Sergeant shout from inside the SUV. "Hooligans! In the car!"
I snickered at that, nudging an elbow into Rebel's ribs. "That's what you get for calling them heroes, Reb," I said as I jogged toward Cat's side of the SUV. I poked a finger at the teen; "You have some explaining to do."
"Yes, mom," Cat said sarcastically, giving me a small salute right before I climbed into the vehicle.
"Look, they're both in one piece," I heard Gunner say cheerfully from the back. I turned to see Desmond squished between he and Sergeant, and by some strange miracle, Desmond didn't look like he was going to pass out. "Told you so," Gunner said, nudging the redhead.
"Yeah, whatever," Desmond grumbled, nudging Gunner right back. "I was concerned about bullet holes, not missing limbs."
"How about glass cuts?" Rebel volunteered, lifting one of my arms and causing me to hiss and glare at him. He offered an apologetic smile before he began to carefully remove the glass pieces from my skin.
"I'm not usually concerned about much with the hooligans," Legion said from the other side of Rebel as Catatonic took off. "Not with their health, anyway."
"How is he," Rebel asked, nodding toward Desmond, "here?"
"Oh, your ginger friend is one of our contacts," Catatonic said, glancing in the rearview mirror at us. He gave us another overconfident smile. "Dezzy's a whiz with just about anything technological. We came across him when we were on an assignment in America. Kept tabs ever since."
"When you two went off to interrogate that Kinetic guy you knew," Legion said, "Sarge, Gun, and I ditched and went off to put out lines. See what other agents we could contact. Desmond was the first one to answer."
"We didn't even suspect you, kid," Sarge said, clapping a hand on Desmond's shoulder that visibly caused him to recoil. "Good job."
"Turned out, Cat and Low weren't too sure how they felt about Gray," Legion continued, looking between Rebel and I solemnly.
It was Low that spoke up next, a tinge of hatred in her voice as she spoke. "Last I saw of him, he was lying left and right. Pissed me off, but I didn't have Cat—" she waved a hand at her friend, "—to force the truth out of him. And that was before Team Charlie decided to go rogue."
"We've been following him since the attack on HQ," Catatonic said.
"He knew," I said in reference to Gray, my brow furrowing as I watched Rebel pick a few smaller shards out of my skin and drop them to the floor between Cat and Low. "He was probably sided with Aim and Gambler from the beginning."
"That's our thought, too," Catatonic agreed. "Which means he's been helping rally forces for the Kinetic for at least as long as you Alpha dogs have been down'n'out. Doesn't exactly bode well for us."
"No," Gunner agreed. "It doesn't. But, I recall a certain duo's famous saying being, oh, what was it—"
Rebel and I answered in chorus: "We've had worse."
"That's the spirit," Sergeant said cheerfully. "Besides, now it's-- two, four, six ... eight of us. And— can I tell them?" he asked, leaning forward and shaking his partner's shoulder.
"Yeah, why not," Legion said with an eye roll.
Sergeant grinned widely at Rebel and I. "We're meeting Team Delta in Berlin."
"Which puts us at ten against, ah, an entire underground organization, but who cares?" Low said sarcastically.
"Look, as happy as I am that we're growing in numbers," I said, raising my voice, "we need to check out that warehouse that we came here for."
Everyone else went quiet for several seconds, before Gunner spoke up. "They know we know about that, though. It's probably a trap."
"Or a dead end," Sergeant intoned.
"Doesn't matter," Rebel said. "Risk is right. We need to at least check. Aim and Gambler aren't that smart, and it wouldn't surprise me if Gray gave us a good lead with the assumption that we'd be dead before we could do anything with it."
"Why does everyone assume we'll die?" I asked, rolling my eyes.
"I think it's hope more than anything at this point," Legion muttered, earning himself a light punch to the shoulder from Rebel.
"A'right, a'right, listen," Catatonic said. "I'm the driver, and I say we go see the warehouse. Mostly 'cause I haven't been having much fun since we left Asia. So ... warehouse it is. Any protestors may exit the vehicle at any time."
I grinned, leaning forward to mess up his hair. "Look who finally decided to start making some good life choices."