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We open the adjoining cell.
“Move now or die,” Jon growls, his voice tight with urgency.
“I’ll have to carry him.” I move toward the prone figure, but Ember’s voice cuts through the chaos before I can reach him.
“Look out!”
I spin, rifle rising. A tango appears in the doorway, weapon leveled at my chest. My finger tightens on the trigger. One round, center mass. He drops like a rock.
In the split second it takes me to neutralize the threat, Jon’s already in motion. He grunts with exertion as he hoists the unconscious man over his shoulder, adjusting his grip on his rifle with his free hand.
“We need to move,” I growl, frustration mounting. “This extraction is turning into a clusterfuck.”
I key my radio.“Mitzy, we need an exit strategy. Now.”
“Hold for a moment.”Mitzy’s voice crackles through the comm.“Analyzing building schematics…”
But Ember’s already moving, her eyes locked on something across the room. “This way,” she says, her voice surprisingly steady. “There are others.”
My heart sinks.
Others?
Just what we need.
ELEVEN
Blaze
Three small figureshuddle together in another cell, eyes wide with terror. Children.
Fuck me running.
“Command said nothing about kids,” Jon mutters, echoing my thoughts.
“Doesn’t matter,” I say, voice hard. “We take them all.”
I push down the rage threatening to cloud my judgment. There’ll be time for that later. Right now, these kids need us.
“It’s okay.” Ember moves toward the children, hands outstretched. Her voice is soft and soothing. “We’re here to help. Can you walk?”
They nod, clinging to each other. The oldest, a girl no more than twelve, takes charge of the younger two. It’s both heartening and heartbreaking to see.
We press on, a ragtag group of rescuers and rescued. I take point, hyperaware of every shadow, every potential threat. Jon brings up the rear, the young man a dead weight across his shoulders. The Rufi unit circles us, a tireless guardian.
The warehouse becomes a nightmare of twisted metal and gunfire. Twice, we’re forced to backtrack, routes blocked bycollapsed beams or pockets of resistance. The children whimper, faces streaked with tears and grime—every sound tears at my heart, fueling the cold rage building inside me.
Suddenly, Ember gasps. “Aria. Where’s Aria?”
“The rest of the team is searching for her.” I turn, meeting her frantic gaze.
The words barely leave my mouth before she spins, her body tensing like a coiled spring. In an instant, she’s moving, darting back the way we came, her desperation palpable.
Without thinking, I lunge forward, arms encircling her waist. She thrashes against me, fury evident in every movement. Her elbows dig into my ribs as she fights to break free.
“Let me go!” Her eyes blaze with determination, her body trembling with barely contained rage at being restrained.
“We can’t,” I growl, my voice hard as steel. I tighten my grip, using my larger frame to immobilize her. “My team will find her.” My tone brooks no argument, leaving no room for debate. “This isn’t a discussion; it’s an order.”