The briefing room was dim, shadows stretching across the table as the holographic map flickered. Adrian’s jaw flexed while the handler laid out the mission.

“Your unit will have support this time.”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t take support.”

“This is from Command,” the handler replied, voice flat. “Joint op. You’ll be working with another classified team.”

He leaned forward. “Classified from me?”

“Leader’s record is sealed. You’ll meet her in the field.”

It was already sour in his gut — Black Lance worked alone for a reason.

The mission: a rescue of a recon squad gone silent for forty-eight hours in hostile territory. Last known position: deep inside an enemy-held city, surrounded by insurgents.

Two hours later, Adrian stepped onto the tarmac. Across the way, another black-clad unit moved with mechanical efficiency. At their head stood a woman — cap low, headset snug, rifle ready. Her gaze found his instantly, cool and unblinking. No handshake. No greeting. Just silent appraisal.

Efficient, he admitted to himself. Still didn’t mean he liked this.

The insertion was smooth. They moved like shadows through the wreckage of bombed streets, until they reached the target building. That’s when the world exploded. Gunfire from rooftops, alleys, and broken windows.

“Inside!” Adrian barked, ushering both teams into the crumbling lobby.

“We hold position and call in air,” he ordered.

“Negative,” she shot back instantly. “We push out now while they’re still spreading.”

“That’s suicide.”

“Staying is suicide.”

His glare hardened. “You don’t give orders to my men.”

“I’m not letting mine die because you’re too stubborn.”

He grabbed her arm and yanked her into a side room, slamming the door behind them.

“You undermine me again, and I’ll—”

Her fist came without warning, connecting with his chest — not enough to hurt, but enough to shove him back.

“You think I’m going to stand here while you get us trapped?”

He stepped forward, shoving her back against the wall. “You think I haven’t been in tighter spots than this?”

She twisted, breaking his hold, then slammed her forearm into his shoulder, forcing him sideways. His hand caught her vest, dragging her down with him. They hit the dusty floor, grappling — elbows, knees, boots thudding into the ground in short, vicious bursts.

She was fast. Every move sharp, calculated. He blocked a knee, spun her over, and pinned her wrists to the floor.

Breathing hard, faces inches apart, neither willing to yield. Her eyes were bright with defiance, her breath quick and hot against his cheek. Something cracked — not in the building, but inside him.

Before his brain caught up, his mouth was on hers. Hard, unrelenting, the same force he’d just used to fight her poured into the kiss.

For half a second she froze — then her grip on his arms loosened, and she kissed him back, pulling him closer despite the gear between them. The fight dissolved into something hungrier, rough gloves brushing along each other’s necks, the world outside muffled to nothing.

It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t smart. But for that moment, in the dust and the dark, it was the only thing either of them wanted.

Outside, gunfire rattled the windows. Inside, they stayed locked together, neither willing to break first — not from the kiss, and maybe not from whatever was happening between them.