Page 11

ELEVEN

Blaze

Three small figures huddle 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 by collapsed 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.”

She goes limp in my arms, the fight draining out of her. I set her down gently, my hand lingering on her arm. Our eyes meet, and I try to convey everything I can’t say aloud.

“I promise,” I say, voice low and fierce. “They will find her.”

A crackle of static cuts through the moment. Jenny’s voice is tiny but unmistakable. “We’ve got the primary. Repeat, we have Aria Holbrook. Fall back to extraction point Alpha.”

I turn to Ember, relief evident in my voice. “They’ve got Aria. She’s safe.” But the relief is short-lived as I realize our predicament. We’re cut off.

Ember’s eyes widen, a mix of relief and frustration crossing her face.

“Incoming!” Jon shouts.

The air erupts in a hail of gunfire. I shove Ember behind a stack of crates, shielding her with my body. The children huddle close, faces buried against her side.

I pop up, returning fire. The Rufi unit mirrors my movements, creating a deadly crossfire. Two tangos drop, but more pour in. We’re outnumbered and outgunned.

“Delta-One, requesting immediate backup,” I bark into my comm.

Jenny’s voice comes back, tight with strain. “Negative, Delta-Five. We’re pinned down ourselves. Heavy resistance. You’re on your own.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. No backup. No extraction. We’re completely cut off.

Fuck.

“There’s too many,” Jon calls out from behind a derelict forklift.

I swear, my mind racing through options. We’re running out of time and ammo.

“Options?”

Ember’s voice cuts through the chaos. “There’s a network of old maintenance tunnels. They run under the whole complex.”

I turn to her, eyebrow raised. “How do you know about these?”

Ember gives me a look that could freeze hell itself. It’s a mix of ‘ are you kidding me? ’ and ‘ do you really want to waste time on stupid questions ?’ that leaves me feeling like an idiot for even asking. The intensity in her eyes speaks volumes about her past, making her even more intriguing.

Pushing aside my curiosity, I refocus on the matter at hand.

“You’re sure about these tunnels?”

She nods, determination replacing fear in her eyes. “I used them to hide back when… They’re our only shot.”

It’s a risk, but what choice do we have? “Lead the way.”

The warehouse erupts into a hellish cacophony. The air fills with the stench of gun powder. Bullets whiz past, pinging off metal surfaces with ear-splitting clangs. The Rufi unit chirps frantically, its sensors overwhelmed by the chaos.

We move as one, a desperate, scrambling mass. Jon grunts with effort as he hefts Daniel onto his back, sweat pouring down his face. The unconscious man’s dead weight threatens to throw Jon off balance with every step.

“Stay low, keep moving. We’re almost there.” Ember guides the children, her voice a soothing counterpoint to the mayhem around us.

The kids cling to her like a lifeline, their eyes wide with terror, faces streaked with tears and grime. The youngest one stumbles, a choked sob escaping his lips. Ember scoops him up without breaking stride, her determination palpable.

I provide covering fire with the Rufi, the robot’s precise shots complementing my own. The kickback of my rifle sends shockwaves through my arms, but I ignore the growing ache. Every second we buy is precious.

“There.” Ember’s voice cuts through the chaos, barely audible over the gunfire. She points toward a massive, rusted machine, its purpose long forgotten. “Behind that, there’s a hatch. You can’t see it from here, but trust me, it’s there.”

I nod, signaling the others to follow. We dash toward the hulking metal beast, bullets pinging off its corroded surface.

We reach the machine, and Ember immediately feels along its base. Her fingers move with desperate urgency, leaving streaks of blood and grime on the oxidized metal.

“Come on, come on,” she mutters, her voice tight with frustration.

The screech of metal on metal sets my teeth on edge as she struggles with something I can’t yet see. Sweat beads on her forehead, mixing with dirt and what might be blood.

For one heart-stopping moment, nothing happens. The gunfire intensifies. One of the children whimpers. Jon grunts under Daniel’s weight.

I’m about to suggest we find another way when Ember lets out a triumphant cry. There’s a grinding noise, and suddenly, a section of the floor moves to the side.

A bullet ricochets dangerously close, showering us with sparks. One of the girls screams, the sound piercing through the din of battle.

Then, with a final shriek of protesting metal, the hatch gives way.