Traitor Husband? My Reborn Bullet Found Him... Again! - Chapter 1: Chapter 1

"Listen up—I'M calling the shots here! Stay in your lane and do what I tell you! When I say wait, you WAIT! Cut the attitude!" My husband Garrett Cross's voice blasted through my earpiece.
For a second, I was completely lost. What the hell?
The cold sniper rifle in my hands snapped me back to reality—I'd been reborn to the day the governor's son was taken hostage!
In my past life, I'd lined up my shot, finger ready, when my team leader husband suddenly hit the brakes.
Why? Because he was waiting for his Bridget Vaughn, the so-called "expert negotiator."
Her negotiation skills? Complete garbage. She actually made the psycho MORE pissed off.
So I took the shot myself, dropped the bastard, and saved the kid.
But Bridget got absolutely destroyed by everyone and had a total meltdown—straight to the loony bin.
My loving husband? Didn't say a word. Just sent me undercover on the next mission, then ratted me out to the gang right before we busted them.
"All you had to do was wait five more minutes! But no, you had to make Bridget look like an idiot!"
"You wanted to be the hero so bad? Fine—stay there and be a hero FOREVER!"
Those sick freaks tortured me to death, piece by piece.
Now, staring at that same perp through my crosshairs again, I lifted my finger off the trigger.
Time to grab some popcorn and watch these two morons crash and burn.
"Seven minutes left on the deadline! What the hell is happening with negotiations?"
"Strike team and bomb squad are ready to go! Do we have a breakthrough or are we moving in?"
This was the fourth time Deputy Commander Jackson had asked over the comm, but all he got back was team leader Garrett Cross tearing him a new one.
"Listen up—I'M in charge here, got it? Everything goes through ME!"
"Bridget's fine. It's her first real operation, she just needs time to adjust. She'll figure it out."
But Jackson wasn't having it. He was positioned one floor above the hostage situation, close enough to hear every word being exchanged.
"Bridget Vaughn keeps pissing off the perp! Nothing she's saying is working. If we let her keep going and the hostage dies, can YOU handle that respon…"
Before he could finish, Garrett cut off Jackson's comm access entirely, then continued over the radio:
"When I tell you to wait, you WAIT! End of discussion!"
"Harper, what do you think?"
Suddenly he was asking for my input.
I released my finger from the trigger and spoke into my mic:
"I think we should listen to Garrett. He's the commanding officer here, so we follow his orders."
Garrett seemed surprised by my cooperation, but he threw me some praise anyway.
"See? THAT'S what a good team player looks like."
"Listen up, all units—hold your positions. Wait for my go."
Through my scope, I watched the perp's face getting redder and redder. Bridget's words were clearly making him more pissed off, and his movements were getting more erratic.
Meanwhile, our so-called "expert negotiator" kept running her mouth like she couldn't see how unstable he was getting.
This was the "professional" Garrett had so much faith in.
The building was rigged with explosives. One button press from this psycho and everyone inside would be blown to pieces.
And in this situation, Garrett was actually letting some rookie negotiator practice on all our lives.
Last time, I was too eager to save the day. Crisis hit—I fired, saved the hostage.
Everyone saw Bridget's epic fail. Back at the station, she got roasted by the entire squad.
Playing games with everyone's lives—getting mocked was the LEAST she deserved. But Bridget couldn't handle it. She left the force and checked herself into a mental institution.
I got promoted for saving the hostage.
Garrett never said a word about it. Just assigned me to go undercover with a crime syndicate for the next mission.
Just as we were about to bust everyone, Garrett straight-up sold me out—sent my position to the thugs tracking me.
When they got the tip, those bastards went ballistic. They tied me to a streetlight and tortured me to death, piece by piece.
Right before I died, I saw Garrett—talking on his phone about revenge, about payback.
I knew exactly who was on the other end. Had to be Bridget.
So this time I wouldn't make the same mistake. Let's see how these two handle their own mess.