Max Carter's eyes scanned the darkened room, his senses tuned to the faintest sound. The safe house had become a war zone, the aftermath of Torres' assault leaving it in shambles. The bodies of fallen assailants lay scattered, reminders of the thin line they walked between survival and oblivion. The scent of gunpowder and blood hung in the air, a testament to the violence that had erupted within these walls.
Elena moved with a predator's grace, her eyes cold and calculating as she checked the perimeter. Mia knelt beside one of the intruders, her fingers deftly searching for any clues that might unravel Torres' next move.
"She won't stop," Mia muttered, her voice a quiet storm. "Torres will keep coming until one of us is dead."
Max's jaw tightened. "Then we make sure it's her."
Elena's gaze flicked to him, a spark of shared determination in her eyes. "What's the plan?"
