Page 40 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost (Nightfall Syndicate #1)

As we approach the first sentry, I signal to Frost. He nods, understanding our practiced routine. I move to the left, circling around behind our target.

I approach the guard silently from behind. In one swift movement, I lock my hands around his head. With a sharp, practiced twist, the bones in his neck snap. His body instantly goes slack.

I lower him gently to the ground, my heart pounding in my chest. The familiar rush of adrenaline courses through my veins, but I push it aside, focusing on the mission.

Frost takes down the second sentry with equal efficiency. He moves like a shadow, his movements precise and deadly. A quick twist, a muffled grunt, and another guard falls.

We continue our advance, taking out two more sentries before we reach the edge of the clearing where the cabin stands. The wooden structure looms before us, its windows dark and uninviting.

I press my finger to my earpiece. "Perimeter clear. Moving in."

As we approach the cabin, I can hear the faint sound of voices from inside. My muscles tense, ready for action. The wooden steps of the porch creak softly under our weight, and I pause, listening for any sign that we've been detected.

Silence.

I nod to Frost, and we take up positions on either side of the door. The rough wood of the cabin wall presses against my back as I ready myself for what's to come.

I take a slow, controlled breath, centering myself before signaling to enter. Frost works on the lock. With a barely audible click, the door yields. A slight nod from him tells me we're good to go.

I push the door open slowly, weapon raised, and we slip silently across the threshold. Unwanted memories flash through my mind. This cabin's layout feels disturbingly familiar—too much like that compound in Syria. My pulse quickens as we move forward, hyper-aware of every creak and shadow.

This isn't Syria. Alina needs you.

But the similarities are impossible to ignore. The narrow hallway, the creaking floorboards under our feet. I can almost hear the echoes of gunfire and children's screams from that night .

"Clear," Frost whispers, his voice a controlled murmur as he checks the first room.

We move deeper into the cabin, checking each room methodically. The musty scent of old wood mingles with a faint trace of lavender. It's different from the acrid smell of gunpowder and fear that filled my nostrils in Syria, but the tension in the air is the same.

Where are you, Alina?

As we near the shut door at the hallway's end, memories flood my mind. I see those kids again, cowering in fear. The crushing burden of everyone I couldn't save—my squad, my family, my friends—nearly brings me to my knees.

Not now. Stay in the present.

I grip my weapon tighter, forcing the memories back. This mission is different. We're here for Alina, and I won't let her down like I let down my team.

"Ghost," Asher's voice whispers next to me. "You good?"

I nod, not trusting my voice. We position ourselves on either side of the door, ready to breach. The wood feels rough under my gloved hand as I reach for the handle.

Please be okay, Alina.

With a silent count of three, I turn the handle and push the door open. We burst into the room, weapons raised. The sight that greets us makes my blood run cold.

In the center, illuminated by a single overhead light, sits Alina. She's tied to a wooden chair, her brown waves falling across her face. Relief floods through me. She's alive.

Standing next to her is a man I instantly recognize as Steele. His cold eyes meet mine, widening in surprise .

She's okay. We made it in time.

"Ghost, in position," Blade's voice comes through my earpiece.

"Ready when you are," Saint adds.

I give the signal. Frost moves to my right, his weapon trained on Steele. I advance, my focus locked on Alina.

"Don't move," I growl at Steele, my voice muffled by the tactical mask covering my face.

Confusion flashes across his features. He doesn't know who we are, but I can see the calculation in his eyes. He's trying to figure out an escape route.

Alina flinches at the sight of more armed men entering the room, her eyes wide with renewed terror. She remains secured to the chair, her muscles rigid with terror while she weighs whether we've come to save her or cause further harm.

"It's over," I tell her, my voice deliberately softened. "We're getting you out."

Recognition flashes across her face at the sound of my voice. "Ghost?" Alina's voice breaks, relief washing over her features.

My heart skips a beat. The shift from fear to hope in her eyes tugs at something deep inside me.

"It's okay, Alina. We're here." I move closer to her.

Steele's eyes narrow at the exchange. "Ghost? Interesting," he murmurs.

I ignore him, focusing on untying Alina. My fingers work quickly at the knots, the rough rope scratching against my skin. I can feel her trembling beneath my touch.

"You're safe now," I murmur, steadying her as she stands .

When I pivot back toward Steele, I catch sudden movement at the edge of my vision. The bastard's reaching inside his jacket. Frost should have been watching him—what the fuck distracted him?

"Gun!" I shout, pushing Alina behind me.

I move instinctively, my body reacting before my mind can process. "Alina, get down!" I shout, shoving her behind me as I lunge forward.

The crack of gunfire fills the room. A searing pain explodes in my chest as the bullet slams into my vest. The impact knocks the wind out of me, but I grit my teeth and push through it.

I charge at Steele, ignoring the throbbing ache spreading across my torso. His eyes widen in surprise as I close the distance between us. My fist connects with his jaw, the satisfying crunch of fist meeting bone reverberating through my arm.

Steele staggers back, but recovers quickly. We circle, feint, trade defenses. He's well-trained, his movements fluid. We trade blows, the sound of flesh hitting flesh mixing with our labored breathing.

Around us, chaos erupts. My team moves like a well-oiled machine, each member knowing their role instinctively. Frost provides cover fire, the sharp report of his M4 rifle punctuating the air. Blade engages two of Steele's men, his movements and blades a deadly dance of efficiency.

The acrid smell of gunpowder fills my nostrils as I dodge another of Steele's strikes. My ribs scream in protest, but I push the pain aside.

End this .

I feint left, then drive my knee into Steele's chest. He doubles over, gasping for air. Not wasting a moment, I bring my elbow down hard on the back of his neck. Steele crumples to the floor.

"Clear!" Frost calls out, his voice steady despite the adrenaline pumping through all of us.

I turn, scanning the room for Alina. She's huddled by the chair, her eyes wide with shock but otherwise unharmed. Relief washes over me, momentarily dulling the pain in my chest.

"You okay?" I ask, moving towards her.

Alina nods, her voice shaky. "I'm fine. You're hit—"

"It's nothing," I cut her off. "I've had worse. The vest took it. Are you hurt anywhere?"

As Alina shakes her head, I become aware of the eerie silence that's fallen over the room. The fight lasted only minutes, but it feels like hours have passed.

The sudden burst of light and deafening bang assault my senses. Thick smoke rapidly fills the space, obscuring everything.

Without hesitation, I throw myself over Alina, shielding her body with mine. My ears ring painfully as the acrid smoke burns my lungs.

Through the chaos, I hear the distinct sound of a hidden panel sliding open. By the time my vision clears enough to see, Steele is gone.

Fuck, he wasn't unconscious like I thought.

"He had an escape hatch," Asher reports, his clipped tone betraying frustration as he kneels by a nearly invisible seam in the floor. "Pressure-triggered."

I slam my fist against the wall. "Blade, find where it leads. Now. "

"On it." Cole's measured voice comes through moments later. "Ghost, tunnel exits fifty yards south. Professional design. Made to look like an old root cellar from outside."

Jax's energetic voice crackles through the comms. "I've got tire tracks by the exit! Looks like someone was waiting—recent marks, still fresh."

"Perimeter?" I demand, still not taking my eyes off Alina.

"Clear on east side," Asher responds with typical efficiency, already moving to secure the escape tunnel.

"South access road has fresh tire tracks," Jax reports, his words coming rapid-fire through the comms. "Driving pattern suggests multiple vehicles, moving fast. Could catch them if we roll now."

Cole's strategic assessment follows. "Based on the escape configuration and response time, this was meticulously planned. They likely have countermeasures in place. Recommend we secure all intelligence before pursuit."

"Medical check first," Remy interrupts, his accented voice firm as he approaches Alina. "She needs assessment before we move."

I nod, making the call. "Secure everything. We'll track Steele—but Alina's safety comes first."

Xander's voice booms through the comms, a hint of excitement breaking through. "Ghost, got something you'll want to see. Looks like our friend left in a hurry—dropped some interesting tech. Want me to examine it?"

"Not here," I order, knowing Chaos's definition of 'examine' typically involves creative disassembly. "Bag it for HQ. "

I turn my attention back to Alina, gently guiding her to a seat as Saint begins checking her for injuries.

My hand lingers on her shoulder, a silent promise that Steele won't get away with this. Not for long.