Shocked, I tumbled back to the ground, eyes locked on the two fallen former teammates who moaned in pain as death crept to their door. “Oh my god,” I muttered, repeating it several times unbeknownst to myself.

  I leaned forward, to crawl towards them, to aid them.

  “No!” Jack said, stopping me with a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll just put yourself in sight lines.”

  “But,” I blubbered, “but we have to help them,” I looked back up at the cold expression of Jack, tears brimming in my eyes.

  “They’ve made their decision,” Jack said, “now we must make ours.”

  “Jack...” I pleaded. “We have to do something for them.”

  Jack sighed and clocked his handgun. “Fine.”

  “No!” I yelped, pushing my hands up at him.

  “I don’t know what we can do,” Jack said, sighing. “It seems like the most humane thing to do.” Jack looked around for a moment, scouring the area. “They won't make it to a hospital...and we don’t have time.”

  “Wait,” Elliott said arduously, grimacing in pain. “Use us...”

  I squinted at Elliott, astonished that he could still talk. “You—you,” I stuttered, “you’re still okay enough...we can get you to a hospital.”

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  “No,” Patty spat out blood. “Time’s up...for us. We did wrong,” she continued. “Let us...make it...” she trailed off.

  “Right.” Elliott coughed, finishing her statement.

  “Huh,” I said, my eyes bouncing emotionally between the two, life draining from their bodies.

  Jack looked on in skeptical silence.

  Elliott’s fingers traced the ground, searching for his gun.

  Jack aimed his gun at Elliott again. “Don’t.”

  “Distraction,” Elliott breathed out. “Escape.”

  “Jack?” I looked back up to him, questioning his thoughts, a blank stare with ever circulating thoughts inside.

  “C’mon,” Jack broke, and helped me to my feet.

  “But we can’t just leave them here.” I softened.

  “Go,” Patty said. “So...sorry.”

  I nodded, slowly, and looked to Jack for the signal.

  Elliott grabbed the gun, and raised it to the direction of the sniper.

  BANG!

  Elliott’s gun rang out, and instantly, we were on the move, as two more bullets flew into our former compatriots and laid them down for good. We rounded our way to the steps, ducking and avoiding incoming gunfire. One struck the bell and gonged loudly as it careened away. Diving, we found our way into the stairwell and full cover.

  “You okay,” Jack whispered.

  I nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

  A thin strip of light from a loose stone within the wall let in an amber stream across my face slipping in from the outside.

  Suddenly, Jack moved into the light and blocked it, his head peering outside. He held silent, looking at length.

  “Jack, what is it?”

  He looked back at me and showed me to the wall.

  I looked through after registering a confused gaze with him.

  “To the rooftops.” He said. “What do you see? Or who do you see? He’s part of this.”

  I looked around before spotting a bald man in a dark black suit, readjusting a sniper rifle.

  “Your brother!? He's working for Beckman too?” I looked at the lethal huntsman with terror in my eyes, and a rapidly increasing heartbeat, knowing that the man who took my the life of my Father, the same person who was the brother of the man I...well, wanted a future with. The same killer who wanted me dead. I shivered at the thought of him even getting close to us, and here he was, forcing us into an even worse position.

  Jack gulped hard, and uncomfortable. “Guess he came to finish the job.” He gritted his teeth ferociously. “I won't let him though,” Jack turned to me and looked straight into my eyes, into my heart. “And that...is a promise.”