Brad and his family froze, their laughter abruptly stifled by the sight of armed figures emerging like shadows cast by the brooding winter sky. Mia lay motionless beside me, her breaths shallow and eyes fluttering as she clung to the fragile thread of consciousness. I held her tightly, whispering assurances, as the chaos around us unfolded.
Marcus, my brother, stepped out of the lead SUV, his face a mask of grim determination. A former special forces operative, he carried with him an aura that demanded total attention and compliance. He moved with purpose towards us, his eyes flicking quickly over Mia, assessing the damage.
“Maria,” he said, his voice calm but imbued with an urgency that belied his expressionless facade. “We’ll get her to safety. Emergency medevac is en route.”
