Elliot swallowed, then gave a quick nod. Asher moved first, bracing his rifle against the lower edge of the window frame to stabilize it. He leaned just enough to aim and began firing in short, controlled bursts toward the rooftop.
Elliot followed, less steady, firing in wider, uneven bursts, but still sending rounds downrange. It worked. The sniper stopped firing, forced to stay down under the incoming pressure.
"Move," Mercer said.
He and Silas slipped out through the front door, keeping low as they cleared the exterior. The moment they were outside, they broke left, moving along the wall and staying tight to cover as they advanced.
Gunfire echoed from deeper within the town. Another squad was engaged nearby, voices raised, shots overlapping in a chaotic rhythm. Mercer caught fragments of shouting as they passed an alleyway, but he didn't slow down.
They had a target. The apartment building came into view ahead, its structure worn and partially broken down. Mercer pushed forward, crossing the open stretch quickly before slipping inside, Silas right behind him.
The interior was dim and narrow. They moved straight for the stairwell.
"Up," Mercer said quietly.
They climbed fast but controlled, boots hitting each step with purpose. By the time they reached the top, both of them were breathing heavier, but neither slowed.
The rooftop access door stood just ahead. Mercer stopped beside it and looked back at Silas. Silas gave a small nod.
Mercer took a breath, steadying himself. For a brief moment, everything else faded. The distant gunfire, the shouting, the pressure of the exercise—it all dulled into the background as his focus narrowed to what was in front of him.
Then he moved. He drove his foot into the door, kicking it open hard. The door slammed against the wall as Mercer stepped through, rifle already coming up.
The sniper was there, stretched out in a prone position near the edge of the rooftop. His rifle was mounted against a low ledge, stabilized so he didn't have to carry its full weight while aiming. The barrel was still pointed toward Mercer's team's position across the town.
At the sound of the door, the sniper snapped his head toward them. He reacted fast, letting go of the mounted rifle and reaching for his sidearm.
Mercer raised his weapon and pulled the trigger… Nothing.His stomach dropped. The safety.
For a split second, panic hit him hard. 'Not now. Not like this. I had the shot, how did I miss something that simple?'
The sniper already had his pistol up, lining it toward Mercer. Before he could fire, Silas stepped past Mercer's left side.
One clean shot. The round struck center mass, hitting the vest. The sniper jerked back as the sensors triggered, the green lights on his helmet and chest instantly turning red.
He was out. Silas didn't say anything. He didn't even look at Mercer. He just lowered his weapon and turned, already heading back toward the stairwell like it was routine.
Mercer stood there for half a second, his grip tightening around his rifle. 'I almost threw that. I had everything lined up and still almost got taken out because of one mistake.'
He exhaled sharply, forcing the thought down, then turned and followed.
They made their way back down and crossed the distance quickly. When Mercer reached the building where Asher and Elliot were, he pushed the door open.
"All clear!" he called.
Asher immediately stood, a grin breaking through his focus, while Elliot let out a visible breath of relief as he got up from his position.
As they regrouped, Mercer glanced over them quickly before asking, "Ammo check. How many mags?"
"Two," Elliot said.
Asher let out a quiet breath through his nose, and even Mercer couldn't help the small smile that slipped through.
"Three," Asher added.
"Five," Silas said flatly.
"I've got five too," Mercer said.
Without making a big deal out of it, he pulled two magazines from his vest and handed one to Elliot and one to Asher.
"Don't burn through it this time," he said, not harsh, just direct.
Elliot nodded quickly, gripping the mag a little tighter than necessary.
Asher gave a small smirk. "Got it."
Mercer glanced toward the deeper parts of the town, where gunfire still echoed between buildings.
"Let's move," he said.
Mercer's hands still shook slightly as he shouldered his rifle, the weight of what could have happened pressing in on him, and for the first time, he realized that staying alive wasn't just about skill, it was about never letting a single lapse slip through, not even for a second.