Not at the people.
At the machine.
At the tire.
She fired.
The bullet struck near the wheel, grazing it, not enough to stop it.
"Steady," Santiago's voice came again, closer now, just behind her shoulder, his presence a quiet but unrelenting pressure at her back. "You rush, you miss."
Her jaw tightened, frustration and urgency colliding in her chest.
She adjusted again.
Breathed.
Fired.
The shot landed true.
The rear tire exploded with a violent crack, the sound cutting through the night like something breaking apart. The SUV lost balance instantly, fishtailing wildly as the driver fought to regain control. The vehicle veered sharply, spinning out toward the side of the road, swallowed briefly by a cloud of dust and debris.
For a moment, the pressure lifted.
Not silence.
But distance.
The van surged forward, engine roaring as it pulled away, creating precious space between them and the chaos behind.
