Page 6

Silence descends upon the room, the gravity of his words sinking in. I think of my sister, of the hole her absence left in my life. Some losses you never truly recover from.
CJ steps forward, phone in hand. “Just got word from ops. The jet’s spun up and waiting on the tarmac. Further instructions will be sent en route.”
“That’s our signal.” Jennifer’s voice cuts through the heavy silence, soft but firm. “Alright, team. You know the drill. Mitzy, you and your crew keep digging on that van and our mystery girl. We need everything you can get us.” She turns to the rest of us, her dark eyes intense. “Delta team, kit up. We’re wheels up in thirty.”
I feel a surge of adrenaline. From our base in Northern California to New York City—this is going to be one hell of a rescue.
“Kit out your gear for urban ops. Pack for at least 72 hours. We don’t know how long this will take, and I want us prepared for anything.” She looks each of us in the eye, her gaze lingering on mine. “This is what we train for, people. Let’s bring them home.”
The room erupts into controlled chaos as we move to action.
The halls of Guardian HRS blur as I stride toward the Delta team’s bullpen, my mind already churning through scenarios. A high-profile victim. Professional kidnappers. An unknown witness with a hero complex and a rap sheet.
The door hisses open, and cool air washes over me. Racks of weapons line the walls, each one a tool with a specific purpose. I move on autopilot, selecting my gear with practiced efficiency.
Kevlar vest, snug against my chest. The weight is familiar and comforting. Thigh holster checked and double-checked. Spare magazines, each one a potential lifeline. Comm unit, the reassuring chatter of the team already filling my ear.
I can’t help but think of Ember Winters. She’s out there, scared and alone. No family. Nobody to care for her.
We’re coming, Ember,I silently promise.Just hold on. You’re not alone.
“Heads up!” Mac’s voice booms from across Delta team’s bullpen. “First ransom demand came in. Night Pack is claiming credit.”
The Night Pack. A name whispered in shadows, feared even by other criminals. If they’re involved, this just got a whole lot more complicated.
We’re missing something big.
My fingers brush the worn St. Michael medallion at my throat. The patron saint of warriors and protectors. A gift from my sister, before….
I push the thought away, locking it back in its box. There’s no room for ghosts on a mission. Focus on the now.
As I strap on my boots, a memory surfaces unbidden. Another mission, another rescue. The smell of gunpowder and blood, the weight of a child in my arms. We saved her, but the cost….
I shake my head, banishing the thought. This isn’t then. This is now.
I exit Delta’s bullpen, fully geared up and ready. The familiar weight of my weapons grounds me, a reminder of who I am and what I do.
As I move through the halls, other operators nod in respect. They know the drill. When Delta team moves, it means something big is going down.
I reach the garage, where the rest of the team is already assembled. Jennifer stands at the head of the group, her posture radiating authority.
“Listen up,” she says, voice carrying easily over the low hum of engines. “We’ve got two hostages, unknown number oftangos, and a potential Night Pack connection. This is not a smash-and-grab. We go in smart; we go in careful.”
She turns to me, eyes hard. “Blaze, you’re on point for infiltration. Mac, you’re his second. The rest of you know your roles. Questions?”
Silence. We’ve trained for this and drilled it a thousand times. Now, it’s time to put it into practice.
“Alright,” Jennifer says, a hint of pride in her voice. “Mount up.”
As we pile into the vehicles and head to the airstrip, the familiar rush of adrenaline surges through me.
The engines roar to life, and we peel out of the garage.
It’s time to hunt.
God help anyone who gets in our way.
THREE