BLOOD, CHROME, AND GHOSTS OF THE PAST

Emergency red lights hummed to life along the concrete floor, bathing the hangar in a blood-colored haze.

"Perimeter wire is cut!" a voice shouted from the upper catwalk.

A split second later, the air vibrated with the heavy thump of thermal-breaching charges against the hangar's steel doors. The blast ripped the reinforcement bolts out of the concrete, blowing the blast doors inward with an ear-shattering crash.

"Ambush!" Marcus yelled, leveling his shotgun.

Automatic fire tore through the smoke. Gabriel didn’t draw his weapon; his entire body acted as a human wall, sweeping Maya behind a solid steel workbench. "Bones! Keep her covered! Don't let her leave this corner!"

"On my life, Gabe!" Bones slid behind the steel bench, unholstering two pistols and shielding Maya with his own body.

Gabriel drew his heavy .45 from his shoulder holster, racking the slide. Men in black tactical gear and Kevlar vests flooded through the smoking threshold, their muzzle flashes illuminating the gloom in erratic bursts. These weren't street thugs; they were high-priced corporate mercenaries hired by Miller.

Gabriel moved with brutal efficiency. He stepped around a stack of steel beams, firing twice into the chest of an advancing shooter, dropping him instantly. He kicked the man’s rifle away, caught another mercenary by the throat against a support pillar, and drove him into the ground before putting a bullet through his vest plate.

The Iron Rogues fought like cornered wolves, using every piece of industrial machinery for cover. But the mercenaries had night vision and superior numbers.

"Gabriel!" Dutch screamed from the catwalk above. "They didn't come to kill us! Look out behind you!"

Gabriel spun around. Through the smoke, three operators had bypassed the main firefight, moving directly toward the workbench where Bones was pinned down by suppressing fire.

A stun grenade detonated right at Bones’ feet, blinding him with white light and an ear-splitting screech. Before Gabriel could close the twenty yards between them, a gloved hand grabbed Maya by the collar of her grey sweater, dragging her kicking and screaming toward a breached maintenance tunnel in the back wall.