James came to a sudden halt.
His dark eyes, cold and sharp, locked onto the man standing in his way. The kind of deadly energy that comes from living too long on the edge filled the air around him, making everyone freeze.
“I’ll take the blame.”
“Right now, my order is the only thing that counts.”
“Start the boat.”
“If anything happens, I’ll answer for it with my life.”
The captain facing him was completely shaken. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. He finally just gave up and rushed to radio the boats waiting on the river.
A few minutes later, the speedboat roared up to the shore. James carried Will on board, and the whole team made a quick, silent getaway.
...
An hour later, a helicopter touched down right on the hospital helipad at the border military base.
Medical staff rushed out, already waiting by the landing pad.
“Move! Get him to surgery now!”
“His blood pressure’s crashing, start a transfusion!”
Watching Will get wheeled into the operating room, James felt everything leave him at once. He leaned hard against the cold wall, dragging in heavy breaths.
He looked like hell.
Mud and dried blood covered his face. His uniform was torn, arms and back marked with cuts that still bled through the fabric.
The rest of the Dragonscale team didn’t look much better.
Most of them had just dropped to the floor, too tired to care about anything but breathing. Their eyes were empty, haunted.
For almost three months, they’d barely slept, chasing leads and running missions across Southeast Asia.
Their bodies, their minds, everything was at its limit.
Tonight’s fight had nearly finished them.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway, sharp and impatient.
“What happened here?”
The voice was deep, commanding.

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