Page 99 of Specter Bred

"Stay right on me. If they spot us, they’ll shoot me first. By the time they realize you’re carrying, it’ll be too late."

Even in training, Hayes was willing to sacrifice himself for me.

Something hot twisted in my chest. I wanted to kiss him again. Wanted to show him exactly how much I liked a man willing to put himself beneath me, to let me take charge. Instead, I gave a sharp nod.

"On my count."

Hayes adjusted beside me, ready.

"Three... two..."

On one, we exploded from cover.

We ran hard, weaving between obstacles, crisscrossing with the distraction recruits who burst into the open at the same time.

The instructors didn’t fire, not at first. They were still scanning, looking for the flags. Then Cutter spotted Teller, who held a flag.

"He’s carrying!"

The shot cracked. Teller dropped with a grunt, the single flag tumbling from his hand into the open dirt.

Shit.

My eyes locked onto it. We needed that flag. Mission success couldn’t happen unless every piece of intel made it over the finish line.

"I’ll get it. Hide," Hayes ordered.

Before I could argue, he shoved off, and I dove behind a concrete ramp.

But it was a trap.

The instructors had stopped firing because they were waiting for someone to make a move for it. Long had already tried, and they’d picked him off easily. The flag sat in the open now with no cover for twenty feet in any direction.

A kill zone.

But Sammy ran anyway, faster than I’d ever seen him move. For all his clumsy charm, the beta could fly when it mattered. He cut low, weaving hard, and somehow made it to the flag. My chest tightened, and for one wild second, I thought he might actually make it.

Then a burst of colored powder exploded across his back. The impact sent him pitching forward into the dirt. But before he hit the ground, Hayes twisted and hurled the flag. It sailed through the air, straight toward me. It landed only a few feet from my cover.

My pulse kicked hard. I couldn’t give the instructors time to track where he’d thrown it, so I bolted. Arms already loaded with flags, I snatched the last one off the ground without breaking stride and tore through the course, zigzagging between barriers, searching for my next point of cover.

It only took seconds for them to spot me.

"Archer!" Alvarez shouted.

"There!"

Training rounds cracked behind me.

Dust exploded.

Ahead, Redwood crouched behind the last barrier just short of the finish line, waiting.

"Cover me!" I shouted.

But he didn’t move.

Instead, he held his arms out.