Page 12

12

KYRA

T he sun was setting as the team got in position around the Doomers' compound. Kyra lay flat on her stomach at the crest of a low ridge, high-powered binoculars pressed to her eyes as she studied the facility below. The wind carried dust that gritted between her teeth, but she barely noticed it.

"Two guard towers on the north perimeter, another on the east," she murmured into her comms unit. "The main entrance has a checkpoint with at least four armed personnel. Vehicles moving in and out through the south gate—looks like less security there."

The compound sprawled across several acres of land, surrounded by a concrete wall topped with razor wire. Inside the perimeter stood several buildings—a central structure that looked like a warehouse, two smaller rectangular buildings that could be barracks or prisoner facilities, and a fortified administrative building with satellite dishes on its roof.

"I've just gotten the satellite imagery," Yamanu said in her earpieces. "It confirms your assessment."

"South gate shows regular vehicle traffic with minimal inspection protocols," Max said.

Something about the compound's layout tugged at her memory—the arrangement of buildings, the positioning of guard posts, and the strong lighting that was designed to eliminate blind spots. It reminded her of something, something that made her heart rate quicken and her palms dampen with sweat.

Then, it hit her with the force of a physical blow. The facility's design was eerily similar to the compound where she had been held twenty-some years ago, the place she'd awakened with no memories of her life before, only to find herself a prisoner.

The same cold grip of fear she'd felt then threatened to close around her throat now. For a moment, she was back there—disoriented, terrified, watching guards drag screaming women through the corridor.

Except, that facility was inside Tehran, not outside of it. She hazily remembered running through the streets with fellow liberated prisoners and people running interference for them, blocking the pursuers' path, seemingly unintentionally.

Then again, her memories of that day were so fuzzy that her mind had probably made up most of the details to fill in the gaps. Perhaps the facility had not been in Tehran. Perhaps she and the other escapees had taken a vehicle and driven it to Tehran, ditching it somewhere, and continuing on foot to disappear among the crowds.

Had it been some kind of holiday that so many people were on the streets? Perhaps it was a protest?

When she returned to America with her sisters and her nephews and nieces, she would put some effort into researching what had happened to her, but now she had a mission to focus on. Her family depended on her, and she couldn't afford distractions.

Kyra forced herself to take a deep breath, then another, and one more. That was then. This was now. She was no longer a prisoner but a warrior, and she was no longer alone. She had a team of superheroes with her. Yamanu, the incredible shrouder and thraller, and the Kra-ell, who were warriors on a whole different level.

Max had told her how they'd plowed through the guards at the compound in Tahav, human and immortal alike.

Then there was Max, who was not going to let her down if it was the last thing he did.

Her pendant pulsed against her skin, warmer than usual but not with the burning heat that signaled immediate danger .

Except, she no longer trusted its input.

It had betrayed her, had sent her on the wrong path, and hadn't warned her that she was making a mistake. Max had tried to convince her to go for Parisa and her children first, but she'd insisted that her gut was telling her to start with Soraya.

Then the Doomers had moved against Yasmin.

But the truth was that even if she had listened to Max instead of the stupid pendant, they might not have gotten there in time to prevent Javad's senseless death.

As she swept her binoculars across the compound once more, the pendant's warmth intensified when she focused on one particular building that she'd originally thought was barracks, but upon closer inspection, the bunker-like structure looked more like a holding facility than housing for soldiers.

Was the pendant trying to compensate for its previous failure? Or maybe it was good for some things and not others. Or maybe she should stop relying on it altogether.

"The northeastern building," she said into the comm. "I think that's where they're holding them."

"Why do you think that?" Jade asked through the comms.

Kyra hesitated, unsure how to explain her gut feeling. "It's the same size as the one on the other side of the administrative building, but it's built like a bunker and has more guards than all the others. To me, it looks like a classic prisoner containment setup."

"That's our target," Max said.

"Agreed," Yamanu confirmed. "Jade, Rishba, and Asuka. You create a diversion. When security responds, Kyra, Max, Dima, Anton, and I will infiltrate from the south and make our way to the building. We secure the family and extract them via the route we discussed. Is everyone clear on the plan?"

After a chorus of acknowledgments came through the comms, Kyra slid backward from her position until she was safely below the ridge line, then rose to a crouch and moved toward where Max and Yamanu waited with the rest of the team.

The sun had nearly set now, the mountains to the west silhouetted against a sky painted in violent shades of orange and crimson. Appropriate, given what was about to happen.

"We are in position," Jade reported through the comms. "Ready on your mark."

Yamanu checked his watch. "Five minutes. Final equipment check, everyone."

Max reached out to briefly squeeze her shoulder—a small gesture of support that carried more weight than words could have. "Just remember, we do this together. No lone wolf heroics."

He sounded like her teammates back in the rebel camp, but the situation was a lot different now. Back then, she was the strongest warrior in their organization, and she had taken on more risks because she knew she was immortal while her teammates were human and fragile in comparison. Now, every member of her team was stronger and better trained than she was. For best results, she should let them take the lead and follow their commands.

"Don't worry." She squeezed his hand. "For a change, I'm the weakest link in the operation, and I'm going to do my best not to do anything that might impede our superhero team. That being said, this is my family, and I will do whatever is necessary to save them, including risking my life."

Max nodded. "Thanks for the honest reply. Just don't die on me because I don't think I could ever recover from that."

His words touched her more than he could have imagined, and she leaned over to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. "You're not getting rid of me that easily. I don't plan on dying today."

He grinned. "That's the right answer."

"Time," Yamanu announced. "Jade, you're on."

The plan was for Jade's team to approach the main gate in one of the vans, with Jade driving and Rishba and Asuka crouching, hidden from view in the back. As the van neared the checkpoint, explosives set in a fuel depot, which was some fifty meters away, would provide a calculated distraction that would draw attention and resources without arousing suspicion of a coordinated attack.

Right on time, there was a sudden flash, followed by a rolling boom that shook the earth beneath Kyra's feet. Immediately, alarms blared across the compound, and guards began rushing toward the site of the explosion, exactly as planned.

"Move now," Yamanu ordered, and their team sprinted from cover, using the lengthening shadows to approach the southern perimeter where security would be the thinnest.

Kyra's body remembered the countless missions she'd led with the resistance, and she settled into the familiar rhythm, entering the zone. The weight of her weapons was reassuring—the primary firearm strapped across her chest, the blades secured at her thigh and ankle, and the backup pistol holstered at the small of her back.

She'd fought her way out of situations worse than this.

She would get her family out.

They reached the perimeter wall without incident, taking advantage of the chaos unfolding on the other side of the compound. Yamanu produced grappling hooks, and within moments, they had scaled the wall and dropped into the compound proper.

"Two guards approaching from the west," Yamanu whispered, detecting them before the rest of them did. "Don't engage unless necessary."

As the five of them pressed themselves into the shadows between two storage containers, Kyra controlled her breathing, making herself as still and silent as the night itself. If these guards were Doomers, they would be able to hear her and her companions' heartbeats, so she prayed that they were human.

The two men hurried past, speaking about the explosion and speculating whether it had been sabotage.

Once they had passed, Kyra followed Max and Yamanu to the northeastern building, with Dima and Anton guarding their rear. They were using the structures and vehicles on their way for cover, which slowed them down, but the longer they remained undetected, the better.

Her pendant continued to pulse warmly against her skin, seeming to confirm they were on the right track, but she no longer trusted it and remained hyper-vigilant.

As they neared their target, a pair of guards appeared unexpectedly around a corner, spotting them immediately.

There was no time for stealth, and as they reached for their weapons and opened their mouths to shout an alarm, she unsheathed her daggers, ready to throw them at her targets, but Anton and Dima reacted faster than anything Kyra had thought possible. Before the guards could utter a sound, the two Kra-ell closed the distance, their blades finding the guards' throats with synchronized precision.

She was still in a state of awe and shock as they dragged the bodies behind a utility shed.

After they returned, the entire team continued toward the bunker-like building, and Kyra felt the familiar combat calm settle over her—the hyper-focused state where everything slowed down and where every movement became deliberate and precise. Yet beneath that professional exterior, fear still churned, not for herself, but for her sister and the children.

What if they were too late?

What if the Doomers had already begun whatever procedures they had planned?

What if they had already sent her family to their vile island of depravity?

No time for that now. Focus on the mission. She cut off the spiral of dread .

At the rear entrance, two more guards stood watch. They were alert but not alarmed, still unaware of the intruders concealed in the shadows.

"They are human. I'll take them," Yamanu whispered.

He didn't seem to be doing anything, but the guards froze in place, their expressions going blank.

If anyone were to look at them from some distance, they would seem to be perfectly fine, doing their job and guarding the building. No one would suspect that they were under a powerful immortal's thrall.

"Inside," Yamanu commanded softly.

Max moved first, with Kyra close behind him. They entered the building, finding themselves in a dimly lit corridor with numbered doors running its length. The interior was sterile, institutional—more like a medical facility than a prison, which made it more disturbing.

At the end of the corridor was a security station, but Yamanu took control of the guard's mind the same way he had done to the two outside.

"You don't leave any fun for us," Anton complained.

Kyra ignored him. "We need to check the monitors," she said as she scanned the displays for a sign of her family.

The security station provided views from cameras throughout the facility, but the images were black and white and grainy. "There!" She grabbed Max's arm, pointing at one screen.

Even though the image was blurry, it was easy to see that the cell contained several occupants—a woman sitting on a bench with five children of varying ages clustered around her.

"Room twelve," Max said, checking the monitor label. "Now, isn't that serendipitous?"

Fenella had been locked in cell number twelve, and now Kyra's sister and her sister's children were locked in a cell with the same number.

As they rushed down the corridor, Kyra's heart hammered in her chest, adrenaline and anticipation making her hyperaware of every sound, every shadow. Her pendant grew warmer with each step, confirming they were getting closer.

They encountered two more guards en route, dispatching them quickly and silently. The lack of general alarm suggested their infiltration remained undetected and that the compound's security forces were still focused on the distraction at the main gate.

When they reached the door marked Twelve, Max took position on one side, rifle angled low, while Kyra mirrored him on the other. Yamanu stood back, eyes fixed ahead, ready to thrall anyone inside who might raise the alarm.

Kyra gave a nod.

Max tried the handle, then shook his head. "It's locked. I need to breach it, but the charge won't be subtle. I need the people inside well clear of the blast zone, and I'm not sure they can hear us through the thick door."

"I'll handle it," Yamanu said. His voice had that distant edge he got when he was focusing. "Give me a second."

He closed his eyes. A beat passed.

"They're moving back," he confirmed. "They won't come forward unless someone screams."

Max gave a quick nod and pulled a small, clay-colored charge from his vest. "Mini C4 satchel—shaped for directional force. Won't blow the door off the hinges, just crack the lock." He pressed it into place just above the latch, flattening it with nimble fingers.

He attached a remote detonator and then looked over his shoulder. "Back up. Stay tight to the wall."

Dima and Anton ducked across the corridor to get a view of the breach while the rest of the team retreated several doors down.

The blast was sharp but surprisingly contained—a low, concussive thump followed by the soft clatter of warped metal. Kyra blinked. She'd expected something louder.

"Good stuff," Max muttered. "Precision compound. Focused yield."