The night air whipped through the SUV's open windows, carrying the faint smell of rain and asphalt.
Rowan's hands were tight on the wheel, knuckles white, eyes scanning the streets with the precision of a predator. Beside him, Roselyn gripped her seatbelt, breath coming in shallow bursts. Her bag had been thrown to the floor during the sudden swerve two minutes ago.
"They're close," Rowan muttered, voice low but steady.
Roselyn's gift had already warned her—the tingling sensation beneath her skin, the prickling electricity crawling up her spine. She could feel them before they saw them.
Suddenly—a flash of headlights.
Bullets ricocheted off the SUV's body, splintering metal and glass. Rowan swerved sharply, tires screeching against the wet asphalt.
"Rowan!?" Roselyn screamed, clinging to the dashboard.
"Hold on!" he shouted.
Another volley hit the rear, cracking the back window. Rowan slammed the accelerator, dodging a black sedan that appeared from an alley, Rambo's men intent on cutting them off.
The chase escalated. Cars rammed their sides. Spikes suddenly appeared on the road—traps designed to disable the tires. Rowan swerved, narrowly missing them. The SUV skidded into a lamppost, crunching metal, lights flickering.
Roselyn's chest heaved. "This… this is impossible!"
"I've trained for impossible," Rowan snapped, though his jaw ached and a sting from shrapnel grazed his side. He was bleeding but didn't allow himself to slow down. Every sense was razor-sharp.
From the rearview, he noticed more shadows—another vehicle overtaking, trying to box them in.
Then it happened: the first collision.
A black sedan smashed into their side. Rowan's SUV spun violently, flipping halfway before slamming into a concrete barrier. Roselyn screamed as the world tilted. Glass shattered, airbags deployed, and the tires squealed helplessly.
Rowan gritted his teeth, pain shooting down his ribs. He reached over, grabbed the steering wheel, and straightened the vehicle just enough to regain control—but the bleeding was worsening. His hand trembled.
"You're going to be fine," Roselyn said, voice cracking—but even she could feel the fear radiating off him.
Suddenly, headlights appeared ahead, cutting through the chaos.
A group of black SUVs blocked the road entirely. No lights on. No markings. Just precision.
Rowan instinctively swerved to avoid them—and then the impossible happened.
The SUVs moved in tandem, creating a corridor for their vehicle. Rowan realized too late that the vehicles were not attacking—they were guiding them.
A voice crackled over a secure channel inside the SUV—unfamiliar, calm, and authoritative.
"Captain Hale, pull to the left. Follow the convoy. You are safe with us."
Rowan hesitated. The voice was unknown, yet there was no alternative. Rambo's men were closing in, bullets spraying past their windows, engines roaring.
He nodded. "Understood."
Following the convoy, Rowan and Roselyn were guided through narrow alleyways, service roads, and finally into a hidden underground entrance. A reinforced steel gate slid open silently.
They didn't speak until the SUV stopped inside the massive hidden base.
Rowan pushed open his door, every movement agonizing from pain and bruises. He barely managed to help Roselyn out. She turned, eyes wide, taking in the high-tech surroundings—security monitors, armed personnel, and what appeared to be a fully operational secret command center.
He leaned against the SUV, breathing ragged. Blood seeped through his shirt.
"Get him inside," a masked figure barked to the staff.
Roselyn stepped forward. "Rowan!"
They helped him to a medical bay. The staff immediately began treatment—cleaning wounds, stitching lacerations, and stabilizing him.
Rowan's hand brushed hers as she tried to reach for him. He gave a brief, reassuring squeeze.
"You're safe… for now," he whispered, voice hoarse, eyes closed as pain radiated through him.
Her chest tightened. "Who… who are they?"
Rowan opened his eyes, scanning the room. "I don't know… but I trust them. They arrived at the right moment. Too precise to be a coincidence."
As Roselyn settled near his bedside, she looked at him, the fear in her eyes mixed with something more—a fragile relief.
Outside the reinforced walls, the night raged on.And somewhere, far away, Rambo's eyes burned with fury.
He knew exactly where his prize had gone.And the hunt… was about to become even deadlier.