The night fractured into gunfire.

I froze halfway down the fire escape, my lungs locked, my scream stolen by the chaos. Above me, on the roof, the Russians swarmed, their shouts in sharp Russian commands slicing through the night air. I couldn’t see Nikolai anymore—just shadows moving against the broken skyline, flashes of muzzle fire sparking like cruel fireworks.

My body wanted to climb back up, to throw myself into the storm and tear them off him with my bare hands if I had to. But the metal beneath me groaned, threatening to snap, and his last command seared into me like a brand: Go.

I didn’t move. Couldn’t. My...