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I call her a kid, but Ember’s a grown woman—twenty-two. Still, she’s young, several years younger than me, but the streets made her grow up fast. It’s not that I see her as a kid—it’s just that the gap between us feels bigger, like I’ve already fought battles she’s just starting to face.
As Charlene walks away, I catch Brett watching us, his expression unreadable. The dynamics of their relationship are none of my business, but I can’t help wondering how they make it work.
“Alright, listen up.” Jenny’s voice cuts through the cabin, snapping everyone to attention. “We’ve got a potential location. Abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city. Satellite imagery shows recent activity, and it fits the profile of previous Night Pack operations.”
A holographic image of the factory springs to life in the center of the cabin. It’s a hulking structure, all rusted metal and broken windows. The perfect place to hide if you don’t want to be found.
“What’s the plan?” Jon asks, leaning forward in his seat.
Jenny’s eyes sweep the room, meeting each of us in turn. “Two teams. Blaze, you’ll lead infiltration. Charlie, Jon, and Brett are with you. Mac, you’re with me on perimeter control and backup.”
I nod, already running scenarios in my head. “We’ll need thermal imaging. If they’ve got hostages, they’ll keep them separate from the main group.”
“Already on it,” Mitzy pipes up. “I tapped into a military satellite. We’ll have real-time heat signatures when we’re in range, and the Rufi will be with you on the ground. I’ll also release the bumblebee drones.” A glint of excitement shines in her eyes. “They’ll map out the inside, along with identifying friendlies and hostiles.”
“How long?” I frown, tension knotting in my shoulders.
Mitzy hesitates. “An hour, give or take.”
I bite back a curse. Every minute feels like an eternity when lives are at stake. But I know she’s right. “Do it. We need all the intel we can get.”
“Blaze,” Jenny says, “you’ll take both units with your group. They can scout ahead and minimize our exposure.”
“The bumblebees and Rufi will work in tandem,” Mitzy adds, her fingers flying over her tablet. “I’ll sync their data streams. The drones can provide overhead mapping while the Rufi give us ground-level intel.”
Mac grunts in agreement. “Those robo-dogs have saved our asses more than once. Just don’t let ‘em get shot up. I’m tired of putting ‘em back together.”
I nod, already envisioning how we’ll integrate the Rufi into our infiltration. “What’s their current loadout?”
“Standard package,” Jon replies. “Infrared, motion sensors, audio surveillance. Plus, they’re carrying extra ammo and med supplies.”
“Perfect,” I say. “We’ll use them as advance scouts. Any hostiles they encounter, we’ll know before we’re in the line of fire.”
Brett grins, a predatory gleam in his eye. “Not to mention, they make great distractions if things go sideways.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Jenny interjects. “Remember, this is a rescue op. We go in quiet, get our people,and get out. The Rufi and bumblebees are for intel and support, not engagement unless absolutely necessary.”
We all nod in agreement. The addition of our robotic team members doesn’t change the core mission, but it does give us a significant advantage.
“Alright,” Jenny continues, “Mitzy, you’ll coordinate the drone and Rufi feeds from the mobile command center. Any questions?”
The cabin falls silent, each of us mentally preparing for what’s to come.
“Good,” Jenny says, a rare note of approval in her voice. “Now, let’s talk extraction plans.”
The rest of the flight passes in a blur of preparation and last-minute checks. Before I know it, we’re on our descent into New York. The city sprawls beneath us, a glittering tapestry of lights and shadows. Somewhere down there, Aria and Ember are waiting. Hoping. Maybe even praying.
As we touch down, I review my mental checklist one last time. Gear, weapons, comm links—everything in its place. But it’s not just the human equipment that will make or break this mission. It’s all of us—flesh, blood, and circuitry—working together.
The cabin door opens, letting in a blast of cool night air. It carries the scents of the city—exhaust fumes, hot asphalt, and something indefinably New York. I take a deep breath, letting it center me.
Two black SUVs wait for us on the tarmac, engines idling. I head for the first one, Jon, Brett, and Charlie falling in behind me. In the second vehicle, Jenny, Mac, and Mitzy load up, along with one of Mitzy’s techs, carefully handling a box containing the bumblebee drones. The Rufi units are already loaded, their sleek forms visible through the tinted windows.
“Lock and load, people,” Jenny says, her voice tight with anticipation. “It’s showtime.”
SIX
Ember