Chapter 79

Chapter 79
The night exploded in gunfire.
Inside the bunker, Mika crouched low behind a stack of crates, her breath even despite the chaos around her. The air was thick with smoke, the sharp scent of gunpowder clinging to her skin. Her heartbeat was steady, her focus razor-sharp. They had prepared for this. Every shot, every scream, every moment had to feel real.
Outside, the gunfight raged, the sharp cracks of suppressed rounds mixing with the muffled grunts of men going down. Mika knew Seamus was out there, cutting through them like a phantom in the dark, ensuring that by the time he reached her, they were already half-buried in bodies.
A thud against the bunker door.
Then another.
Mika shifted her weight, adjusting her grip on her pistol. They were trying to get in.
Then—
The door burst open.
Seamus stormed inside like a force of nature, his silencer hissing as he dropped the first man to enter. His face was streaked with dirt and blood, his chest rising and falling with barely contained adrenaline. For a brief second, their eyes met.
Then they moved.
Mika fired twice, hitting her mark before rolling behind another crate. Seamus was already there, yanking a knife from his belt and burying it into an attacker’s throat before grabbing the dead man’s rifle. The two of them fought seamlessly, a violent, practiced rhythm—
A fight they had choreographed to look like desperation.
Mika ducked as Seamus fired over her shoulder, her own pistol still hot in her grip. A man lunged for her, but before she could react, Seamus was already there, yanking him backward and slamming his head into the concrete wall.
More men poured in.
Seamus reloaded, his hands moving fast, fluid. “They’re pushing us deeper. Good."
Mika gritted her teeth, her back pressed against his. “Time for the next act?”
Seamus didn't answer. He just moved.
The next wave came fast, the sound of gunfire bouncing off the bunker walls. Seamus and Mika fell back as planned, forcing their enemies to believe they were losing ground.
The space was closing in, smoke thickening in the air, bodies piling up at their feet. Mika’s muscles burned, her fingers slick with sweat and blood as she reloaded. Seamus stayed close, their movements so in sync that they barely needed to look at each other.
A flash of movement—too fast.
Mika turned, but too late.
A knife plunged into her side.
Her breath left her in a sharp, stunned gasp, her body locking up as pain exploded through her ribs. The blade was deep, the wound real, burning hot as she staggered. The man who had stabbed her grinned, twisting the handle cruelly before yanking it free.
Seamus saw.
He didn’t hesitate.
A single gunshot echoed in the bunker, the man’s body collapsing before he could take another breath. Seamus was already moving, grabbing Mika before she could fall, his free hand pressing hard against the wound, his fingers instantly slick with her blood.
Mika grit her teeth, her vision swimming for half a second. No. Not now. She had to stay on her feet.
“We need to move,” Seamus growled, his voice tight, barely contained fury burning beneath it.
Mika forced herself to stand, gripping his arm for balance before nodding. “Almost there.”
Seamus’ jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue.
They backed toward the storage room, their supposed last stand, the place where they would make their final play. A body slumped at Mika’s feet. She nudged it aside with her boot, making space, making room for the carnage to look real.
She could hear them coming. More boots pounding against the floor. More enemies spilling inside. They wouldn’t stop. Not until this place was burned to the ground.
Seamus’ grip on her tightened for just a second, the smallest flicker of hesitation in his eyes. But Mika met his gaze, steady, resolute.
Her fingers tightened around the remote tucked into her palm.
It was almost time.
The heavy boots of the last wave of attackers had barely hit the bunker floor when Kiernan entered.
He walked in slowly, unhurried, stepping over bodies as if they were nothing more than discarded debris. The dim light flickered against the sharp angles of his face, the smirk he wore pure arrogance. He had already decided how this was going to end.
Seamus turned, blood-streaked and breathing hard. His stance widened slightly, adjusting to face Kiernan fully. Mika shifted next to him, her body still coiled tight from the pain in her side, but her gun remained steady in her hand.
They had prepared for this.
Kiernan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Look at you. Bleeding all over the floor, back against the wall. Like an animal with nowhere left to run. I have to admit, you put up a better fight than I expected."
Seamus exhaled through his nose, his fingers flexing around the knife he still held. His breath was measured, even. "You always underestimated me."
Kiernan tilted his head, amused. "Not this time."
His gaze slid to Mika, his smirk stretching wider. "And don’t worry about her. I’ll take good care of her when you’re gone. Maybe I’ll start by seeing what’s between those pretty little legs."
Something inside Seamus snapped.