Page 59 of Dozer

"Kenzi, go. Now."

She grabs the evidence case without needing another word. She doesn't question what stays behind. Doesn't waste two seconds trying to save the laptop or the gear or anything else we brought into this house. She takes the one thing worth getting killed for, the physical evidence.

The door explodes inward. The first man comes through low and fast, weapon already coming up. I meet him before he clears the frame. There isn't room for hesitation. I drive him back, strip the weapon, put him down hard enough that he stays down. The second man is through the opening before the first hits the floor, and this one is better. Faster. He gets a shot off. It tears through the wall behind me. I close the distance anyway.

For a few seconds, everything becomes movement and sound. My body goes into muscle memory, this is why we train. We train hard and we train often so in situations like this we can react without thinking. My shoulder hits the wall. His elbow catches my ribs. My fist connects. His weapon clatters. I hear glass breaking somewhere behind me.

"Kenzi?" I call out.

"Still here."

Of course she is. I glance toward the front of the house. She's already moving, case against her chest, eyes tracking the fight without freezing in place. Then I see the third man coming around the side.

"Window."

She doesn't ask why. I cross the room, grab her hand, and pull her toward the back window.

"Go."

I smash the glass with my elbow. She climbs through without hesitation. My hand stays around hers for one extra second as she drops into the dark yard. Then she's gone. I follow.

Behind us, the safe house erupts. Shouting. A flash of orange through the broken windows. They've started burning the place. I don't look back twice.

We run. Not far. Half a mile, maybe less, cutting through a tree line that gives us enough darkness and distance to break the immediate perimeter. Branches tear at my sleeves. The ground is uneven. Kenzi keeps pace beside me, still carrying the evidence case. I don't tell her to drop it. I know she won’t.

When we finally stop behind a stand of trees, both of us are breathing hard. I do the count. We’re both upright and breathing. Still alive. That's enough for now.

"We lost everything," Kenzi says. She's still holding the case. "Car. Gear. Burner line to Hunter." She looks down at herself. "And I'm fairly sure I left my last clean shirt in that house."

"We'll get another shirt."

She stares at me. "That is not the point I was making."

"I know."

I look back toward the distant glow between the trees. The safe house is burning. Hunter's people swore it was clean. Four hours. That's all it took.

"This is bad," I say.

Kenzi's expression shifts. "How bad?"

"Whoever's doing this has access I didn't account for. Deeper than our routes. Deeper than the labs."

"Hunter."

I nod. "Someone close enough to his operation to burn a location built specifically to be invisible."

She looks down at the evidence case. "Which means the leak isn't low-level."

"No." I look at her. "It's not."

The silence that follows is different from the ones we've shared before. We’re stripped down to nothing. No weapons within easy reach, besides the handgun I currently have. We can’t go back for the vehicle or phones. There’s nothing between us and the people hunting us except distance and trees.

And each other.

Kenzi's hands start shaking. She tries to hide it by shifting the evidence case. I catch her wrist gently.

"Hey." I say low. “Look at me.”