"Oh absolutely not."
Aiden stared at the crane controls beside Noah in complete disbelief while bullets slammed into the cargo containers around them.
Rain poured harder overhead now, turning the loading yard into a freezing mess of smoke, fire, and reflective puddles. The rooftop shooters kept firing relentlessly while Victor's cleanup crew closed in from both sides of the eastern cargo stacks.
And Noah—
Noah was looking at industrial machinery again.
Which was never good for public safety.
Noah ignored Aiden's horrified expression entirely and crouched beside the crane control system, quickly scanning the panel through flickering emergency lights.
Aiden grabbed his shoulder immediately.
"No."
"We need an opening."
"We need therapy."
Noah reached for the controls.
Aiden physically slapped his hand away.
"Noah!"
Gunfire cracked overhead again.
Too close.
A bullet tore through the edge of the container beside Aiden's head, showering both of them with metal fragments.
