Ty’s overwatch position affords him a clear view of A while Liam, Gage, and I man the other three sides. “Announce your kills,” I order while the wind whistles a haunting tune and Ivy’s frozen lips nestle into my neck. Ty’s sitreps pipe through the comm. “Tango one down. Tango two down.” “Tango three down,” Gage grinds out. A cacophonous din follows. Screams and curses and gunfire. “Tango four down,” Ty continues. “Tango five down.”
