Baptiste (What You Left Behind)

They fought their way up the main stairwell, up past the decorated columns and imported stone statues. Bullets shredded the ornate bannisters. Mauga’s shield protected them, and they pushed steadily upward. Baptiste and Mauga moved in tandem, with the practiced ease of soldiers used to fighting together. It had been years, but it came back quickly, as natural as breathing.
“I missed you, you know,” Mauga called over the roar of gunfire. He was enjoying every moment of the battle, relishing the adrenaline. Baptiste could feel that same rush in his veins, too. “All those years you were on the run, and we could have been doing this instead. Don’t tell me you didn’t miss it, too.”
Had he? More than he was willing to admit. He’d spent so many years running, and this felt right—not being part of Talon, but having a place where he belonged, with a dependable team at his back. That was what he’d found when he joined the Caribbean Coalition, and later with Mauga and their squad. Taking care of people centered him, made him feel whole.
But Talon was different. What they asked him to do ate away at his soul. In the end, he’d left for a reason, and he couldn’t forget that.
“Watch your back,” he shouted instead, taking down a mercenary who’d been about to shoot Mauga. “That’s your job!” Mauga laughed. His gun tore a path through the guards swarming the top of the staircase,
and they ducked for cover.