Page 3 of Echo’s Secret

"Let him go," Phoenix says, "We came here to break them. Mission accomplished. Diesel, light it up."

"Copy that," Diesel responds.

I know what's coming. We all do. This isn't just about winning the fight. It's about making sure the Vipers have nothing to come back to. Demon can run, but he'll have nowhere to run back to.

The first explosion blows out the north wall. The shockwave rattles windows a block away. I watch through my scope as part of the structure collapses inward, dust and debris billowing into the night.

The second explosion takes out the west corner. Canvas and Ranger are already clear, pulling back to the rally point. The building groans like something alive and dying.

By the third explosion, the remaining Vipers still inside are scrambling for exits. I count them as they emerge. Maybe eight total, scattered and broken. Some wounded. Some just running. None of them organized enough to be a threat anymore.

We let them run. They're finished. Tonight proved that.

The building is fully engulfed now. Flames climbing into the night sky, smoke thick enough to blot out the stars. Heat so intense I can feel it from three hundred yards away.

"All teams, rally point," Phoenix orders. "We're done here."

I break down my rifle, and pack into its case. I climb down from the roof via the fire escape I scouted nine days ago, boots hitting pavement just as Brick pulls up in his truck.

Canvas is already in one vehicle with Saint checking his leg. Judge drives Phoenix. Ranger and Diesel in another. Wraith leads the convoy out.

I climb into the passenger seat of Brick's truck. He looks at me, blood spatter across his jaw that isn't his. "You good?"

"Yeah." My voice comes out quiet like it always does. Not scared-quiet. Just the minimum volume needed to be heard.

He nods and pulls out, falling into position in the convoy. We pass the burning clubhouse. I watch it through the side mirror until we turn the corner, and it disappears behind buildings.

The Vipers are done. Demon got away, but it doesn't matter. We destroyed his home, killed most of his members, left him with nothing to rebuild. He's not a threat anymore. Just a man running from the ashes of everything he lost.

We drive in silence. My phone buzzes a third time. I pull it out and check the screen. Unknown number. A text: *Wesley, it's Hannah. I need to talk to you. It's urgent.*

I stare at the message.

Hannah.

Haven't heard from her in a year and a half.

We met at Sacred Heart. Two kids that never knew their parents, and years of stolen conversations through the chain-link fence that separated the boys' and girls' homes. She was the only person from that whole nightmare who felt like she understood. Lost touch when they moved her to a different placement. The way kids in the system always do.

Reconnected almost two years ago through a mutual acquaintance. Started talking again. It wasn't romantic at first. Just two people from the same broken place recognizing each other’s pain.

Then it became something else. Something neither of us had words for. Something that scared us both. What happened between us is the closest I've ever come to something real.

It also ended after a few months. She said she needed to figure some things out. I didn't push. I never push. I told myself it was fine, told myself I expected it, told myself that's just how these things go.

Now she's texting me. *Urgent.*

I type back: *What's wrong?*

The reply comes immediately: *Can I come see you? I'm at your clubhouse. I know it's been a while. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.*

She's at the clubhouse. Right now.

Brick glances at me. "Problem?"

"Don't know yet," I say.

We cross into Millhaven as dawn starts breaking over the eastern horizon. The town is still mostly asleep. A few early risers getting coffee at the 24-hour diner on Main Street. They don't look at us as we pass, learned not to, probably. Nine bikers rolling through town with blood on their clothes and smoke in their hair.