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Skull’s heart thudded as he led the group through the tangle of darkened passageways, half-dismantled fences, and crooked tin structures. Blade’s wife clutched her two children close, her face etched with the resolve of a mother protecting her own. Walker stayed alongside them, her calm demeanor shining through in the measured way she checked around each corner. Bones, silent and alert, stuck to Skull’s flank, muzzle lifted to catch the faintest hint of danger in the humid air.

They were close to the edge of the shantytown when Bones froze, hackles bristling. The dog let out the faintest low growl. Skull didn’t need more than that to know trouble had arrived.

Up ahead, through the twisting alleys, eight men advanced with unmistakable purpose. Shadows danced around their figures as they moved, weapons held ready, eyes scanning for their target. A death squad. A cold fury ignited in his gut. Eight men to kill one woman and her children. The cartel anticipated that Blade’s disappearance linked right to the SEALs who had been sent to Colombia to rescue the very hostages she was banking on for her husband’s release and return. The same criminals Blade was ready to give up for the sake of his family.

Walker sucked in a short breath. “They’re blocking our direct exit,” she said quietly, quickly flicking her gaze to map out a detour.

Skull weighed his options, fists clenching around his weapon. Every fiber of his nature clamored for him to fight, to mow down the threat. But he knew the children wouldn’t stand a chance if bullets started flying through these cramped alleys. One stray shot could end it all. And if the firefight grew, the entire shantytown would be alerted.

He glanced at Walker. Her calm precision locked with his fierce protectiveness. Together, they understood this was not the time for a pitched battle. The prime objective was to get Blade to talk so they could save Hazard and Leigh. They would be lost if they were pinned down here. More importantly, the children’s lives were at stake.

“We run,” Skull whispered, no question in his tone. “We run, we stay low, we lose them.”

Walker nodded without hesitation. “There’s a side path,” she said, pointing to a gap between the rows of battered corrugated metal walls. “Leads behind that old warehouse. It’ll put us closer to the extraction point.”

Skull crouched by Blade’s wife. “Stay close to Hummingbird. Move as quietly and fast as you can. Don’t look back, no matter what happens. Understood?”

A tremor ran through her, but she nodded, clasping her children’s hands tightly. They, too, gave nervous, obedient nods, their eyes wide and fearful but determined to trust these strangers.

Bones let out another subdued growl, ears pinned. The death squad was moving closer. Skull looked into Walker’s eyes, an unspoken understanding passing between them. In that moment, he was acutely aware of his own fear. Fear not just for the family but also for his father back in the hospital bed. If he failed now, he’d never see the old man alive again. Duty pulled at him like a riptide, threatening to tear him apart. But there was no time to dwell on it. He squared his shoulders and gave the signal.

They slipped into the maze of side passages, staying beneath the flickering glow of makeshift lanterns. Footsteps echoed on the rusty metal scraps littering the ground, and Skull winced at every noise. The cartel soldiers were close enough that Skull could hear muttered curses in Spanish, orders to spread out. They wanted the kill. They wanted the mother and children dead, punishing Blade for any perceived betrayal.

Walker paused at a corner, leaning her head around just enough to see the path. She motioned sharply for everyone to pause. Two figures walked by, rifles cradled in their arms, faces grim and intent on carrying out their deadly task. Skull’s fists tensed, but he forced himself to wait. Conflict was not the plan. They had to make it out, or Blade’s intel and the lives of two helpless kids would be forfeit.

When the guards passed, they continued. With an agility born of countless missions, Skull slithered through the dark, guiding them between overturned crates and piles of debris. Adrenaline seared through him, fueling every sense. Bones stuck close, occasionally glancing back at the children as if personally guarding them.

Moments blurred, each alley just another tight corridor barely wide enough to navigate. Skull’s breath sounded harsh in his ears. He recalled the phone call about his father’s failing health, and panic tightened his chest. Survive this, he told himself. Get the intel and rescue your people. Then go home. That was the plan.

A sudden shout behind them snapped him back into the moment. They’d been spotted. The death squad’s pursuit drew closer, footfalls pounding against cracked pavement.

“Move!” Skull barked, taking the lead. He knew the layout from the recon Walker had shared, and just ahead was the old warehouse, and past that, a drainage culvert that fed into a nearby ravine. Perfect for slipping away unseen, if they made it in time.

As they neared the looming structure, Skull signaled Walker to take the rear, ensuring no one lagged behind. Bones bounded next to him, muscles coiled, ready to defend if needed. The children ran with surprising speed, panic lending them the strength to keep up. Their mother stumbled once, but Walker caught her, urging her forward.

Gunshots cracked the air behind them, bullets ricocheting off metal walls with sharp clangs. The cartel death squad wasn’t letting up. Skull forced himself to keep his focus forward as each second counted. They crashed through a half-broken door into the warehouse’s shadowed interior. Dust motes swirled as the group dashed between toppled shelving units and rusted machinery.

“Almost there,” Walker hissed, pointing to a gap at the far end where the wall had caved in.

Skull’s pulse hammered like thunder. Protect the kids, Blade’s wife, Walker, get them out. Everything else could wait. Rounding the final corner, he spotted the culvert, dark and foreboding. But it was freedom. And once they were away from the shantytown, they could rally with the rest of the team, secure Blade’s cooperation, and save their own. But first they had to evade the sure death that was breathing down their necks, just seconds away.

“Go!” he urged. Blade’s wife and children ducked through the broken wall with Walker close behind. Bones slipped past, ears folded tight, still keyed in for any threat. The death squad’s footsteps echoed in the warehouse, accompanied by harsh commands. Another volley of gunfire rang out, tearing through the air, but none found their mark.

Skull lingered just a heartbeat longer, covering them. His breath came in ragged bursts, a mix of rage and desperation swirling inside him. This was the time to do what he did best. There was no holding back now that they had engaged.

A bullet pinged off a rusted drum a foot away, snapping him into motion. He ducked low and sprinted for the breach in the wall, sliding through it in a shower of crumbling debris. Outside, he caught a glimpse of Walker helping Blade’s wife and the kids clamber down a steep embankment into the drainage culvert.

They were still alive. They still had a chance. And as the echo of gunfire faded behind them, Skull pushed forward into the darkness, determined to see this mission through no matter the cost.

Skull skidded to a halt, heart pounding like a war drum. He listened intently to the distant shouts echoing off twisted metal walls behind them. The death squad was closing in faster and more relentlessly than he’d hoped. Instinct warred with logic. Every fiber of his being wanted to stand and fight, but he knew better. Not with two children and their mother at risk.

He spared a glance at Walker, whose eyes were already searching for an escape route. She clutched Blade’s wife by the arm, the children huddled behind. Bones hovered protectively beside them, ears pricked.

“We’re not going to outrun them,” Skull rasped, voice low but urgent. “We can’t move fast enough with the kids.”

Walker opened her mouth to protest, but he pressed on before she could speak. “You have to take them. Get them away from here. I’ll hold these bastards off.”

Her eyes flashed with anguish and anger. “No. We’ll find another way. You can’t?—”

Skull silenced her with a hard look, the muscles of his jaw working beneath taut skin. “You know we don’t have time. If they catch us all, it’s over. The kids…they won’t survive.”

He turned to Bones, gently gripping the dog’s harness. The Malinois stared up at him, head tilted, ready for a command. Skull bent low, letting the dog sniff each member of Blade’s family. “You guard them, okay? Follow Walker’s lead. Keep them safe.”

Bones let out a low, tense whine, ears flattening. As if he understood, he went to stand beside Walker and the mother, posture rigid with protective intent.

Walker’s face was a whirlwind of conflicted emotion. Her mind told her that a clean escape was the logical choice, but his heart knew something deeper warred inside her. The same bond that made Skull’s stomach knot every time he looked at her. She gripped his arm. “You can’t do this alone?—”

Skull’s gaze flicked briefly to the children, then back to her. “I won’t let them die, and I won’t be alone,” he said, thumping his heart, his voice thick with conviction. He wanted to say more, to beg her to understand that this was the only way, to tell her he cared about her more than any mission. But there was no time. “Go. Now. Find a safe route to the extraction point. Radio the team.”

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, face twisting with an emotion she rarely showed. But she knew he was right. “I’ll come back for you,” she promised, her tone fierce. Then she grasped the mother’s hand, and Bones trotted behind them as they hurried into the shadows.

Skull watched them go, dread clawing at his insides. He thought of his father, sick in a hospital bed a thousand miles away. He silently prayed that if he never made it home, someone would tell the old man he was sorry. That he’d done his duty. That he’d tried to help those who couldn’t help themselves.

Then he steeled himself and faced the oncoming threat.

They came in a flurry of pounding footfalls and harsh voices. Skull waited in a narrow alley choked with debris, breathing slowly to keep steady. When the first figure appeared, silhouetted by a distant flicker of light, Skull fired once, a clean, quick shot. The man dropped. Another rushed in, shouting, and Skull squeezed the trigger again. Two down. Six left.

But these weren’t untrained thugs. One flicked a flashlight across the corrugated metal walls. A bullet smashed into the ground by Skull’s feet, forcing him to dodge behind a toppled barrel. He heard footsteps circling, searching for angles. He ducked under a broken sheet of tin just as another barrage pinged overhead.

Sweat stung his eyes, and the suffocating claustrophobia of the cramped alley pressed in. He tried to reposition for a better shot, but a sudden scuffle behind him sent him staggering. Too many angles. One of the cartel men lunged, knocking the rifle from Skull’s grip. Fists lashed out, and Skull took a swing that cracked bone, but a second attacker blindsided him. Pain exploded across his cheek and temple as he hit the ground.

They were on him in seconds, wrenching his arms behind his back. A boot caught his ribs, driving the air from his lungs. Dazed, Skull tasted blood. He tried to fight, but they forced him down, rifle barrels jabbing into his shoulder blades.

They hauled him back so fast into the half-ruined warehouse, he stumbled several times. Inside they threw him to the concrete floor like a discarded rag. The leader circled him, eyes cold and unyielding. “Where are they?” the man demanded in Spanish. “Where is the woman and her children?”

Skull glared, refusing to speak. Another blow slammed into his midsection, doubling him over. It was followed by a savage kick to his side. White-hot agony knifed through him. He thought of Walker, who was carrying his hope for this mission. He imagined her and the family slipping safely out of the shantytown, guided by Bones, each step taking them farther from these killers.

The beating escalated, fists and boots connected with bruising force. They demanded answers, but Skull pressed his lips together, certain that any word he uttered would endanger Walker and the others. He clung to the image of his father back home. He could almost see the old man in the hospital bed, telling him to do what was right. Apologies flooded his thoughts. I’m sorry, Dad. Sorry for not being there. Sorry you might never see me again. Sorry that duty came first.

A final strike sent him sprawling onto his back, and he could taste the copper tang of blood coating his mouth. His vision blurred at the edges. Through the haze, he could see the death squad’s leader raise a pistol. The man spat out another demand in Spanish. Skull let out a hoarse exhale, trembling with pain and rage, yet resolved. He said nothing.

He’d bought them time and that was all that mattered. If he never made it home, if his father never got to hear his voice again, at least Walker and the children might have a chance at life, and Blade would give them the intel they needed to rescue their people. Let the cartel do their worst. He would endure it, taking solace in the knowledge that he’d protected the innocent.

In the swirling darkness of the beating, Skull fought hard to keep himself together, to look for an opening, to fight for the father who waited in a faraway hospital, a woman who held his heart, to the team and the dog he loved and trusted. Navy SEALs were never out of the fucking fight. And then he braced himself for the next blow.

Walker’s lungs burned as she sprinted through the winding slum alleys, one hand gripping Blade’s wife’s arm, the other waving the children forward. Bones trotted beside them, muzzle low, every muscle tense and ready for a threat that could jump out from the shadows at any moment. For the first time, Walker’s usual calm, the composure that had always defined her, now felt frayed around the edges. Adrenaline pounded in her veins with every step, and her mind churned with images of Skull left behind.

The air smelled of sewage and desperation, and she forced herself not to dwell on the possibility of what might be happening to him. She needed to keep moving. Skull had insisted she protect this family, to get them to safety. That mission still mattered. Yet her thoughts kept snapping back to him, silent pleas echoing in her mind. Hang on. Don’t you dare die.

At last, they reached a partially collapsed wall that opened into the outskirts of the shantytown. Flickers of headlights from waiting vehicles lit the distance. The extraction team had to be close. Walker pulled Blade’s wife and the children into a crouch behind a hunk of broken concrete.

“There,” she whispered, pointing to a dirt path leading to an open field. The extraction point was beyond that field, a safe distance from the labyrinth of the cartel stronghold. “Run straight across. Don’t stop.”

The wife nodded, fear and relief warring on her features. The children clutched at her, eyes wide, tiny shoulders shaking. Despite the dryness in Walker’s throat, she bent down to meet their gazes. “You’ll be okay,” she said, trying to project certainty. “Bones will go with you.”

At the sound of his name, Bones pivoted his head to look at her. The Malinois’s gaze flicked back in the direction they’d fled from, ears standing at attention. He let out a frustrated, low whine. Even he could tell something was wrong. He wanted his handler. He wanted Skull.

Walker swallowed hard. “Bones, go with them,” she ordered, voice pitched low but firm. “Guard them.” For a moment, the dog hesitated, glancing between her and the path, nose raised to catch any sign of Skull. “Go,” she repeated, more fiercely this time. “I’ll get him. I’ll bring him back. Go.”

Bones huffed, then turned and trotted after the family, placing himself protectively at the children’s sides. The mother ushered them forward, and they sprinted out onto the path, guided by flickering beams of headlights that promised safety. Walker rose, heart pounding, and toggled her comm.

“Hummingbird to Iceman,” she said, breath ragged. “I have the full package, and its en route to exfil. They’ll need cover and immediate transport.” She paused. Her eyes were drawn back to the labyrinth behind her. “Skull stayed back to cover us. He’s—” She broke off, forcing a steadiness into her voice. “Permission to go back for him.”

Through the crackle of the radio, she heard a burst of chatter—questions, curses. “Hold your position,” Iceman said, his tone steely, laced with an undercurrent of concern. “Wait for backup. We’re coming.”

She grit her teeth, pressed her comm again. The adrenaline that had carried her this far still thrummed in her veins, making her fingers itch to reach for her weapon and race back into danger. This was unacceptable. It went against every fiber of her being. But that was precisely what Iceman was telling her to do.

“Stand down, Hummingbird,” he barked. “We’re on our way. You will hold position until we get there with enough force to re-enter. Understood?”

She shook her head, her body rigid with tension. Beneath her normally composed exterior, a storm raged, lashing her with a tempest of worry, guilt, and fierce protectiveness. “He doesn’t have time,” she argued, her voice uncharacteristically sharp. “Skull is still in there, possibly wounded. Possibly worse. If I wait for you, we might lose him for good.”

“That’s an order,” he snapped. “You rush in on your own, you risk your life and compromise the entire mission.”

She almost laughed at the notion of risk. She had been trained to thrive on it. She was Uncle Sam’s silent blade, the CIA’s covert instrument for missions no one else could touch. Danger was her everyday reality. Normally, she would analyze a situation logically, weighing pros and cons with steady calm. But this time, her heart battered those calculations aside. Skull needed her now. There was no contest. He was the reason her mind raced, her pulse pounding.

Her rebellion grew. No, she was trained for this, born for this exact type of extraction. “You all don’t understand who we are,” she said tersely, her voice vibrating with confidence. “I live in the shadows, kill in the shadows. They don’t stand a chance against me. This is my playground. I’m going back for him. Fuck your orders. I’m an independent operative, and I’m going to make this decision on my own. I won’t lose him.”

She tried to keep her tone even, but emotion crackled underneath. She remembered the night they’d first worked together, seeing the flash of determination in his eyes, the unwavering loyalty. She thought of his dark looks, the way he’d made love to her, the way he reassured her when she second-guessed herself. He had just saved her life, and she was going to save his. No more arguments.

“I understand the risks,” she continued, her voice low and shaking with barely contained anger. “But if I don’t go, he dies. And I can’t—” Her breath caught. “I won’t live with that. He’s the only reason Blade’s wife and children are safe right now. He stayed behind to protect them. He gave us time to get them out.”

Her voice trembled with an intensity that startled even her. For all her training in emotional detachment, her protectiveness blazed like a bonfire. There was more to it than duty or a promise to rescue a comrade. She could barely admit it to herself, but the truth was undeniable. That crazy brave, hard as nails warrior mattered to her in a way she’d never expected anyone to matter.

A tense silence fell.

Walker seized on the dead air as Iceman’s capitulation. “Get here as fast as you can,” she said, finality sharpening her tone.

She left her rifle behind. She wouldn’t need it. She fully intended to rely on her stealth and blades. They would be all she’d need. Without waiting for another protest, she started jogging toward the ruined alleys.

Her heart pounded in her ears, fear for Skull mingling with furious determination. She would reclaim him from the jaws of the cartel or die trying. They could reprimand her, her boss could yell at her, but none of that mattered. She would not stand by while Skull suffered a fate she had the power to prevent.

Breathing ragged, Walker plunged into the darkness once more, the memory of Skull’s confident grin pushing her on. She doubled back into the maze of alleys. Her feet seemed to move on their own, carrying her into the danger she’d just escaped.

She had always valued reason above all else. Caution, planning, and data-driven decisions were her way of life, her hallmark. But ever since she had started working alongside Skull, she’d felt something shift. He was fierce and unyielding, yes, but he also carried a certain loyal tenderness beneath his tough exterior. She couldn’t bear the thought that he might be suffering or worse because she’d had no choice in leaving him behind.

She wasn’t sure when it happened or how, but the simple truth was that Skull had her heart. The same mind that methodically weighed every angle was now screaming at her to ignore all the odds, all the risks. She couldn’t lose him. Her life, her carefully guarded, self-contained existence would never be the same if he was gone.

Adrenaline spiked as she retraced her steps through the broken alleys, avoiding the route they’d first taken. She slipped along crooked edges of walls, picking her way around rusted metal, ignoring the sharp tang of blood or the memory of gunfire echoing in her ears. Passing the spot where they’d initially been cornered, she spotted signs of struggle, a scuff mark on the ground, a dark stain that made her stomach twist.

Clutching her weapon close, Walker pressed on, senses on high alert. The fear that had always been buried under her curiosity and logic simmered to the surface. Iceman was on the way, and she kept moving, letting her own heart’s pounding serve as the beacon guiding her through the gloom.

In that moment, she realized this was a point of no return. Even if she found him and they made it out alive, nothing would be as it was before. She was no longer the detached observer content to keep a safe distance from everyone around her. She wanted Skull, desperately, with a force she hadn’t allowed herself to feel until now.

Ahead, dim light leaked from the ruins of an old warehouse. Walker pressed her back against the cold concrete, steadying her breath as the sounds of the cartel’s jeering echoed from inside the half-ruined warehouse. Darkness clung to every corner, the perfect canvas for what she did best. Her night vision goggles brought the green-tinted world into sharp clarity. The flicker of a distant lantern, the shape of a guard pacing near a broken window, the rusted barrels that could serve as cover, everything leapt into crisp detail, ripe for the assault she was about to launch. She heard voices, angry Spanish mixed with pained, incoherent sounds. Her hands tightened on her weapon, pulses of anxiety and fury streaming through her veins.

Skull was somewhere inside. And she’d give everything to get him out.

Her heart hammered with the unrelenting knowledge that every second counted. She could only hope Skull was still alive behind those walls, defiant and refusing to surrender an inch of information. Her vow buried deep in her heart. She wasn’t leaving here without him.

This was her domain. She’d been forged by countless missions in the darkest corners of the world, trained to excel where no one else could, to move unseen, to strike fast, to kill quietly if necessary. She was the invisible solution to problems most people never even knew existed. If the American government needed a ghost, she was it.