Riley snorted. “You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you, St. George?”

Garret’s voice was flat. “It’s what I would do.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’ve done this before, haven’t you? Shot kids in the back while they were running away?”

“Guys,” I said in exasperation, glaring at Riley. “This isn’t helping. Focus, please. Garret…” I glanced at the soldier, touching his arm. “You know St. George. You know how they think. What can we do?”

Garret nodded, looking thoughtful. “We’ll need to neutralize the threat first,” he replied, slipping into soldier mode, logical and calculating. “Find out where the shooter is, sneak around and take him out before the rest of the team arrives.”

“Oh, is that all?” Riley frowned, gesturing to the broken window. “And how are we supposed to find where this shooter is without taking a hole to the head? I don’t feel like playing whack-a-mole with a trained sniper right now.”

Garret edged close to the window, keeping his back pressed to the wall. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if preparing himself. Then, before I could stop him, he straightened and peered through the frame, leaving his whole head exposed. Almost immediately, a shot rang out, slamming into the sill and tearing away chunks of wood in an explosion of splinters as he ducked back. I flinched, pressing close to Garret with my heart thudding against my ribs, but he wasn’t even breathing hard.

“Jeez, Garret!” My voice sounded shaky, unlike the soldier beside me. He straightened, looking perfectly calm, like getting shot at by snipers was routine. I scowled and smacked his arm. “Are you crazy?” I demanded. “You want to get your head exploded? Don’t do that again. We’ll find the shooter another way.”

“One block down,” he murmured, making me frown with confusion. His eyes were closed, brow furrowed, as if recalling an image from memory. “Across the street on the corner. There’s a two-story house with an attic window. Foreclosed, I think. The shots are coming from that direction.”

I stared at him in amazement. “You got all that just now?”

“Partly.” He peered out the window, keeping his back against the wall and his head inside this time. “But I observed the area when we first arrived, made note of all the places we might be attacked, where someone could set up an ambush. The house on the corner would be Tristan’s ideal…” He stopped, his jaw tightening. “It makes the most tactical sense,” he finished stiffly.