Page 37 of Rescuing Ally, Part 2 (CHARLIE Team: Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists #8)

THIRTY-THREE

Ghosts and Wolves

GABE

The footsteps grow closer. Whoever approaches makes no attempt at stealth. They know exactly where we are. The question is how—and who.

My pulse hammers against my ribs as I lock eyes with Hank. Firelight carves harsh shadows across his face, jaw tense, eyes calculating. We’re cornered like wounded animals, cave wall at our backs, ocean beyond.

Rigel signals from the entrance—four figures approaching, heavily armed, moving toward our position.

I shift and hot pain lances through my leg. The bandage seeps dark again. If they’re Malfor’s men, we’re cornered with minimal weapons and no escape. A perfect ending to their cleanup operation.

“If it’s them, we make it count.” Blake checks his sidearm, metal clicking against the damp cave walls.

I nod, tasting salt and copper. We won’t go easily.

A silhouette steps into the light. Tall. Confident. Everything about him screams a different kind of predator.

“Easy, boys.” His voice scrapes like gravel, tinged with amusement. “Unless one of you is feeling froggy.”

“Identify.” Ethan keeps the rifle trained on center mass.

“Ghost.” The man steps forward, flanked by three others. Flickering light reveals battle-worn faces and dead eyes. He gestures to each shadow behind him. “Brass. Halo. Whisper.”

Silence crashes down.

Cerberus. The unit that shouldn’t exist. The ghosts that operate so deep in shadow, most of us thought they were just stories to scare recruits.

“Cerberus?” Blake straightens, disbelief raw on his face.

“How the hell are you here?” Ethan’s voice stays glacial, but disbelief flickers in his eyes.

“Your little swan dive off that bird puts us exactly where we want to be.” Ghost’s voice cuts too smoothly, too calculated for what comes next. “Guardian HRS thinks you’re dead, and so does Malfor.”

The cave shrinks around us.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Blake’s shoulders bunch up tight.

“It means you weren’t informed, but your crash was part of the plan.” Ghost delivers the bombshell without blinking.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re smoking.” Walt shakes his head violently. “Our chopper took a direct hit. I was there. I saw it.”

“Yeah, that part wasn’t in the plan.” Ghost’s eyes narrow slightly. “Made it look extra real though, didn’t it?”

“Bullshit.” Rigel surges to his feet. “We nearly fucking died out there.”

“This?” I gesture to my blood-soaked leg. “This shit is real.”

Ghost’s shoulders rise and fall. “Sometimes shit happens. Mission complications. You weren’t supposed to get injured.”

Ethan takes a dangerous step forward. “Mission complications?”

“Injured?” Hank’s voice drops to a whisper that’s somehow more frightening than Rigel’s shout. “You put us through hell without warning.”

“You’re saying that near-death ocean swim was intentional?” Hank’s voice is low, menacing.

Ghost doesn’t flinch. “The plan was always for Charlie team to go down. Chopper takes a hit. Team swims to safety. Cerberus provides shadow support.”

“We were meant to crash?” The words slam into my chest. My throat closes. “To swim?”

“You knew?” Hank looks from Ghost to the pilots huddled under their mylar blankets.

One pilot drops his gaze. “Only the flight team was cleared. Full comms blackout. Couldn’t risk Malfor intercepting anything.”

Betrayal floods my mouth, bitter as bile. I remember endless strokes through black water, burning muscles, death circling behind us like a shark.

“Jesus.” Blake rubs his hand down his face.

“Would’ve been nice to get the memo.” Rigel’s voice rises, heat blazing off him.

Ghost shrugs. “Three miles in the ocean, in the dark. Not your day to die. Guardian HRS knows that. Malfor doesn’t. He doesn’t know you’re more resilient than he thinks.”

Halo slams a battered black case onto the rocks. The lid hisses open, revealing rows upon rows of sleek, deadly bumblebee drones glowing under an ominous red light. Not a dozen—a hundred. Each is no bigger than my thumb but humming with lethal purpose.

“If you girls are done crying about your funeral and if your feelings aren’t too butt-hurt no one sent you a sympathy card, maybe we can get back to saving your women?” Halo’s eyes sweep over us, a smirk begging for someone to try him. “Or are we gonna sit here and braid each other’s hair?”

The words sting like a slap.

Nobody speaks. Our eyes burn with enough fire to answer.

“Thought so.” Halo flicks a switch. The drones blink to life—engines whining, wings flexing, sensors pulsing with predatory intent.

The swarm awakens.

I exhale hard. The sight of those drones—vengeful metal angels—sends fresh adrenaline flooding my system. My anger shifts, refocusing on Malfor and finding Ally.

“As you know, Collins pulled together a team of scientists for a Trojan horse project—some of you pulled guard duty, if I remember right.” Ghost’s voice drops low, charged with dark electricity.

“Yeah.” Rigel grunts. “We didn’t think it was done.”

“It is. Those little stingers are full of it. Live, locked, and loaded.” Ghost juts his chin toward the drones now vanishing into darkness. “They’ll map the facility, locate your women, and infect Malfor’s entire nanobot network at the source.”

“This swarm isn’t just recon—it’s a kill switch?” The brilliance of it hits me in waves.

“You catch on quick.” Ghost’s smirk sharpens to a blade edge. “This Trojan horse doesn’t just get us in. It burns his system to the ground from the inside out. We’re not just saving your women. We’re destroying everything that sick bastard built.”

The swarm hum fades, but something inside me surges hotter—relentless, electric, impossible to extinguish. Vengeance taking flight.

Time to end this.

“The bees are weaponized?” Walt’s eyes widen.

“They carry a nano payload.” Halo taps the case. “Once the hive releases, it finds the primary node Malfor’s network uses to route updates. The Trojan horse piggybacks from there.”

“Like a virus.” Understanding clicks into place. “It’ll look like a regular update to the system, but once it’s in…”

“It corrupts everything.” Whisper speaks for the first time. His voice sounds oddly gentle for a man bristling with enough firepower to level a village. “Malfor’s nanobots will tear themselves apart.”

“We didn’t know it was finished.” Hank’s voice roughens. “Didn’t know how it was going in.”

“You do now.” Ghost’s eyes flick to mine.

The hum starts before we see movement—soft, electric. The swarm lifts and slips into the night through the cave mouth. I watch them disappear, knowing these tiny machines carry not just the hope of finding the women, but also of destroying Malfor’s empire.

“Once they’re inside, they’ll start mapping.” Brass checks a tablet screen. “They won’t last long. Malfor’s resident nanobots will identify and neutralize them quickly.”

“But not before they deliver the payload.” Ghost rubs his stubbled jaw.

“That’s all well and good.” Ethan gestures to our soaked, tattered gear. “But we lost everything in the crash. Our clothes are probably infested with nanobots already.”

“Not likely.” Ghost jerks his chin toward the pilots. “They EMP’d everything before going down.”

The pilots nod in confirmation. Another round of crucial information they kept to themselves.

“That three-mile swim was good punishment for keeping that quiet.” Carter laughs without humor. “Look at them—exhausted.”

“Brought you boys some party favors.” Ghost kicks a stack of waterproof bags I hadn’t noticed before. “Clean gear. No nanobot infestation. Full tactical kits, helmets, headsets, ballistic vests, body armor, new boots, dry socks.”

Brass tosses a box toward Blake. “MREs. Three thousand calories each. Swimming through three miles of ocean tends to burn through your reserves.”

Blake tears into the packaging like a starving wolf. “Chili mac. Jackpot.”

“Trade you for my beef stew.” Walt already has his MRE open and eyes Blake’s meal with naked envy.

“Not a chance.” Blake clutches his MRE protectively. “I pulled this fair and square.”

“Jalapeno cheese spread?” Rigel dangles the packet. “Prime trade material right here.”

“Done.” Walt snatches it instantly, surrendering his M&Ms without hesitation.

I rip into my own MRE. Doesn’t matter what it is. Fuel is fuel, and my body screams for calories after the endless swimming and blood loss. The first bite hits my tongue—some kind of pasta—and suddenly I’m ravenous. We all are. The cave fills with the sounds of men devouring food.

“You animals ever hear of chewing?” Halo watches with disgusted fascination.

“Try swimming three miles with an injured leg.” I don’t look up from my meal. “Then judge my table manners.”

Halo just snorts, but there’s something almost like respect in his eyes.

We finish eating in minutes, crushing empty packets and stowing trash with the efficiency of men accustomed to leaving no trace. The calories hit my bloodstream like rocket fuel, clearing the fog that had settled in my brain. My body still aches, but the desperate emptiness is gone.

We take turns changing into dry gear. The relief of clean, dry clothing against the skin is almost as satisfying as the food. The bleeding in my leg has slowed to nearly nothing.

Brass sets another case by the wall. “Arms and munitions. Enough to outfit an army. Or eight determined men.”

“Status?” Ghost glances at Whisper, who monitors the drone feed.

“First units reaching the compound perimeter now.”

“Once the hive maps the compound—” Ethan watches the last drones vanish.

“—we find the girls.” I finish his thought.

“And how are we supposed to get to them?” Hank’s jaw tightens. “Waltz through the front gate?”

“Drainage tunnel. Sea-level. We scoped it out.” Ghost laughs, the sound of stones grinding together.

“Another swim?” Rigel groans.

“Three miles at night should’ve been nothing for girls like you.” Brass grins.

“Careful. I’m injured, not deaf.” I glare at him.

The banter feels good and pushes back the anxiety gnawing at my mind. The fear that we might be too late. That Ally might already be?—

No. Can’t think that way.

The women are too valuable to Malfor. He’ll keep them alive.

They’re bait in his elaborate game—chess pieces he’s positioned carefully.

This whole scenario reeks of a trap designed to lure in Guardian HRS and what’s left of Charlie team.

The women are his leverage, his insurance. He needs them breathing.

Which means we’re walking straight into his trap. Unless—our untimely “demise” has already ruined his plans. The thought lands like ice in my gut. With Charlie team “dead,” the women lose their value as bait. Maybe he’s already decided to eliminate them, erase the evidence, clean up loose ends.

I glance at Hank across the shadowed cave. His eyes meet mine, jaw muscle pulsing beneath his skin. No words needed. I can read it in the tight line of his mouth, and the slight forward tilt of his body, he’s thinking the same thing.

Every second counts now.

“Okay, so we grab the girls. Then what? We’re still behind enemy lines. What’s our exfil?” Blake’s voice scrapes rough.

“Yeah, how do we get them out? Through the front gate?” Walt’s voice carries exhaustion and hope.

The question hangs over us all. Getting in is one thing. Getting out with civilians is another beast entirely.

“Exfil’s already waiting.” Ghost glances toward the cave mouth. “My team’s got RIBs staged offshore. Once we’ve got the girls, we move to the drop point. Rappel down the cliffs, load up, and vanish into the dark. Clean. Fast. Silent.”

A beat of silence.

“Copy that.” Ethan nods once.

We have a way in and a way out—a real shot at pulling this off.

Ghost moves to the center of our makeshift shelter. “Once the hive feeds back info, we move out. You’ve got eight men. We’ve got four. That’s twelve operators. We ghost in. We ghost out.”

“Copy that.” Ethan’s voice hardens with resolve.

I shift, and pain spikes through my leg. But my pulse steadies. For the first time since hitting the water, something close to hope flares in my chest.

“They’re inside.” Whisper stares at his screen. “Starting to map. Getting layout data.”

Malfor’s about to learn what happens when you take something from men like us.