Page 27 of Code Name: Tank (K19 Sentinel Cyber #4)

TANK

T he helicopter dropped us two miles from the target coordinates, the rotor wash scattering fresh snow across the December landscape.

The temperature was well below freezing, and the wind cut through our cold-weather gear.

Winter in the mountains was unforgiving—every breath burned in my lungs, and the snow crunched under our boots despite our attempts at stealth.

“Radio check,” I said quietly into my comms as we formed up in the tree line.

“Kodiak, good copy.”

“Dragon, copy.”

“Atticus, solid.”

The terrain was brutal. Three miles of hiking through knee-deep snow, navigating around ice-covered rocks and fallen logs that could easily break an ankle.

The short December daylight was already beginning to fade, casting long shadows through the pine forest that made every tree look like a potential threat.

The ranger’s cabin sat in the clearing exactly as our satellite imagery had shown, but the snow had transformed it into something from a winter postcard.

Icicles hung from the eaves, and snow had drifted against the walls.

Our footprints would be clearly visible to anyone looking, but there was no helping that now.

“Overwatch One, this is Tank,” I said as we reached the final approach. “Moving to staging positions.”

Ranger’s voice crackled through my earpiece, distorted by the cold. “Copy that. Thermal shows four heat signatures inside the structure.”

I hand-signaled to the team. We’d advance as one unit and breach simultaneously through the front and rear entrances. The snow would mask the sounds of our approach, but we needed to move fast and quiet.

We were within two feet when we heard a muffled scream.

“That’s Hartwell,” said Dragon.

My gut told me things were about to turn deadly fast. “ Move in! Move in! Move in! Hostage execution imminent.”

Kodiak hit the front door hard, splintering the frame. Through the doorway, I saw two armed men standing over the prisoners, weapons raised to fire.

I didn’t hesitate, firing two quick shots to the first hostile’s chest as Dragon took out the second. Both men dropped before they could pull their triggers.

Flint sat slumped in a wooden chair, his wrists zip-tied behind him and a gag stuffed in his mouth. His head lolled forward, unconscious, but his chest rose and fell steadily. He was alive.

Hartwell was bound to another chair just a few feet away, conscious but with duct tape across his mouth. His eyes were wide with fear and relief at seeing us. His clothes were rumpled and dirty, and bruises on his face suggested he’d been roughed up.

“Clear,” Atticus called out, scanning the cabin interior for additional threats. “These two are already on their way to hell.” He motioned to the dead hostiles.

Kodiak went straight to Flint, checking his pulse and breathing. “He’s alive but heavily sedated,” he reported, cutting through the zip-ties. They drugged him but kept him breathing.”

“Overwatch One or Two, this is Tank,” I said into my radio. “Hostiles down, Hartwell and Flint secured. Hartwell conscious but injured. Flint unconscious. Need immediate extraction.”

“Copy that, Tank. ETA three minutes,” Ranger’s voice came back.

Dragon raced toward Hartwell, and when she pulled the duct tape from his mouth, he gasped.

“Piper, thank God. They were about to kill us both.”

Just as Dragon cut Hartwell’s restraints, the sound of rotor blades overhead made us all freeze as a military-grade helicopter settled into the clearing outside.

“Fuck, that’s not ours,” I shouted. “Move! We engage before they’re out!” I barked. “Atticus, cover from in here!”

I burst through the front door with Dragon and Kodiak flanking, catching the Zaristani extraction team still deploying from their aircraft.

The firefight erupted immediately. These were professional gunmen, heavily armed but not expecting to encounter resistance instead of their guards and either dead or secured prisoners.

Seconds later, Hartwell burst out of the cabin and raced toward Dragon.

“Contact front!” Kodiak shouted, laying down suppressing fire.

From behind me, the crack of Atticus’ weapon split the air. Hartwell jerked and stumbled as we sprayed bullets toward the hostiles.

“Three down, but there’s still the pilot!” Kodiak raced toward the aircraft before it could lift off.

Atticus was right behind me, both of us firing at the helicopter.

“Got ’em,” I heard Kodiak shout as the aircraft, rotors spinning, stayed otherwise motionless.

I looked over my shoulder. Where the hell was Dragon? Hartwell lay motionless where he’d fallen, blood pooling beneath his head from where it had struck a rock.

“No!” I shouted, racing to Dragon, who lay partially obscured by Hartwell’s body. Blood was spreading from under her arm, where there was an opening in her body armor.

“Piper!” I crawled to her side, my hands immediately going to the wound.

“Tank,” she whispered, her face pale but her eyes alert.

I checked the wound quickly. The bullet had hit just below her armpit. Blood frothed at the corners of her mouth, a sign the bullet may have hit her lung.

“Kodiak, how are we looking?”

“Last hostile down!” he called back. “Perimeter secure!”

Atticus appeared at my side. “Jesus, how bad?—”

“We need immediate medical evacuation,” I shouted at him, working frantically to control the bleeding. Dragon’s breathing was becoming labored, her lips taking on a blue tint that made my blood run cold.

“Overwatch One, this is Atticus. We need medical extraction. Dragon is down. Gunshot wound to the chest. All hostiles down. Area secured.”

“Copy that,” Ranger’s voice came back. “On our way.”

“They can’t land. Not enough room,” yelled Kodiak. “We need to take the Zaristani helicopter. If it’s still functional...”

“Can you fly it?”

“Military training included rotary wing certification,” he confirmed. “I can get us airborne.”

He was already moving toward the helicopter, speaking into his radio. “Overwatch One, this is Kodiak. Primary extraction departing with critical wounded. Two additional recoveries. One sedated but stable. One condition unknown. Need immediate follow-up bird.”

“Roger that. Second extraction ETA three minutes.”

I gathered Dragon in my arms, feeling how light she seemed, how weak her grip had become. Her blood was soaking through my gear, and every breath seemed to require tremendous effort.

The run to the helicopter felt like miles. Dragon’s breathing grew more shallow with each step, and her pulse was weakening under my fingers. The December wind was brutal, and I tried to shield her from the worst of it with my body.

Kodiak was already at the controls, pushing the dead pilot aside and running through preflight checks. “Get her in the back! Medical kit should be better than what we’re carrying!”

I climbed into the passenger compartment with Piper in my arms. The aircraft’s medical kit was more comprehensive than our field supplies—IV fluids, bandages, emergency medications.

“Stay with me, darlin’,” I whispered, brushing the hair from her face with bloodstained fingers. “You’re going to be fine. I’m going to get you out of here.”

Her eyes found mine, struggling to focus through the pain and shock. “Tank… I love you…”

After everything we’d been through, after all the walls she’d built and slowly torn down, she was choosing this moment to say what I’d been feeling for weeks? No. She was saying goodbye.

“I love you, Piper. So damn much. You’re going to be okay, you hear me? Don’t you dare leave me. Not now, not ever.”

Piper’s hand found mine, her grip weak but determined before she lost consciousness.

“Closest trauma center,” I called to Kodiak as the helicopter lifted off. “Radio ahead—gunshot victim, massive blood loss.”

I maintained pressure on her wound while monitoring her breathing.

The helicopter lifted off smoothly.

“Tank.” Piper’s eyes fluttered open. “Did we get them?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the engine noise.

“We got them all,” I confirmed. “It’s over, darlin’. The bad guys are dead.”

Her smile was weak but genuine. “Good…”

“Stay awake for me, darlin’,” I said, checking her pulse again. “Keep talking. Tell me about that vacation we’re going to take when you’re recovered.”

“Beach,” she murmured, her eyes fighting to stay open.

“Deal. Anywhere you want to go. Caribbean, Pacific Coast, Mediterranean—your choice. Just stay with me.”

I was checking her bandages when Piper’s breathing became more labored and her lips turned blue.

“Kodiak, how much longer until we touch down?” I called out.

“Two minutes,” he replied, the hospital already visible ahead.

Her pulse was still steady under my fingers, though weaker than before.

“I’ve got plans for us,” I whispered to her.

“What kind… of plans?” she managed to ask.

I looked into her eyes, seeing the trust and love there despite her pain. “The kind that involve forever, if you’re interested.”

“Very…”

Kodiak’s voice crackled through the radio. “Tower, this is emergency medical transport. Request immediate landing clearance for critical trauma patient.”

“Cleared for landing pad three,” came the response. “Medical team standing by.”

As we descended toward the hospital, I held Piper closer, whispering promises I prayed I’d have the chance to keep. Promises about our future, about the life we’d build together.

The trauma team was waiting as we touched down, rushing toward our helicopter with a gurney and emergency equipment.

“Gunshot wound to the left upper chest, heavy amount of blood loss,” I rattled off as they transferred Piper to the gurney.

“We’ve got her from here,” someone said, but I wasn’t letting go of Piper’s hand.

“I’m coming with you,” I said firmly.

“Sir, you can’t?—”

“I’m coming with you,” I repeated, my voice leaving no room for argument. “I’m not leaving her side.”

Piper’s grip on my hand was weakening, her eyes struggling to stay open. “Tank…”

“I’m right here, darlin’. Stay with me.”

They rushed her through the hospital doors, the trauma team shouting. “Blood pressure dropping. Oxygen saturation falling. Internal bleeding. Possible cardiac involvement.”

“This is as far as you go.” A man stopped in front of me. “We’ll do everything we can.”

Piper’s hand slipped from mine as they wheeled her into surgery. The last thing I saw was her face, pale and still, disappearing behind steel doors that might as well have been the gates of hell.

I stood there, in the empty corridor, her blood on my hands, my shirt soaked with it.

“Tank.” Kodiak’s voice came from behind me. “Come on. There’s nothing more you can do right now.”

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think beyond the image of Piper’s eyes closing as they took her away from me. What if those were the last words we ever spoke?

“She’s strong,” Kodiak said quietly. “If anyone can fight through this, it’s her.”

But I’d seen the amount of blood she lost. Felt how weak her pulse had become. Watched her breathing grow more labored despite everything I’d done to help her.

The woman I loved was fighting for her life behind those doors, and all I could do was wait.

I followed Kodiak into the waiting area but couldn’t sit.

“Hartwell’s gone,” he said, staring at a message on the screen.

I didn’t care. In fact, I couldn’t feel a fucking thing as I walked as far away as I could get without leaving, pulled my phone out, and placed a call.

“Tank?” my father’s strong voice answered.

“It’s Piper, Dad. I’m afraid I’m going to lose her.”

“We’re on our way.”