Chapter Eleven #2
Protect the vulnerable.
Fight for those who can’t fight for themselves.
Lead from the front, not the back.
I find five women huddled in a corner, too terrified to move, the water already at their waists. One of them is praying in Spanish, and another is catatonic.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” I tell them, my voice as gentle as I can make it over the roar of rushing water. “I’m gonna get you out of here, but you gotta trust me. Can you do that?”
They stare at me with hollow eyes, and my heart breaks for what they’ve been through. But I don’t have time for my heart to break right now.
“C’mon, we gotta move. Now.”
I get them moving, driving them forward through the flood, one hand outstretched to guide them, the other waving them ahead. My boots crash through the rising tide, and finally I see City ahead at the ladder.
“City, grab ‘em! Get ‘em out!” I shout.
Almost there.
Almost safe.
Almost back to Kaia and my baby girl.
I feel it before I hear it, a subtle disturbance in the air, the kind that prickles across the back of my neck and makes every instinct I own start screaming.
Then she’s on me.
Her weight slams between my shoulders with brutal precision, driving me forward as the railing gives way beneath us. We hit the water hard, the impact jarring my spine as freezing cold explodes around us, ripping the breath straight out of my lungs and replacing it with panic-hot shock.
The bird assassin doesn’t hesitate.
We’re already sinking when her blade flashes beneath the emergency lights, a clean, vicious arc aimed for my throat.
“Too slow,” she breathes, a cruel, bubbling laugh slipping out with the water.
I twist with everything I have, muscles screaming as steel grazes my neck instead of opening it—fire races across my skin.
“Close,” I grunt, the word tearing out of me in a burst of bubbles. “Too fuckin’ close.”
We spiral downward, limbs locking, bodies colliding in a violent knot as the water churns around us.
She moves as though she belongs here, fluid and controlled, using the resistance to her advantage while I fight it with brute force and fury.
Her knee slams into my ribs, driving the air from my chest again, and before I can recover, her free hand claws at my face, fingers digging for my eyes.
“Big man,” she taunts, her voice distorted but unmistakably amused. “All that muscle and still too slow to save anyone.”
I snarl, forcing my head back as I buck against her grip. “Keep talkin’.”
Her knife drops low, precise and merciless, driving straight for my gut. I catch her wrist at the last second, fingers slipping as the blade punches into my side anyway. Pain detonates through me, white-hot and savage, radiating across my ribs and down my spine.
“Ah, fuck!” The sound rips out of me, useless underwater.
She twists the knife slowly and deliberately.
“There it is,” she purrs. “That’s the sound I wanna hear.”
Stars explode behind my eyes as blood blooms warm and slick around us, clouding the water in dark ribbons. She wrenches her arm free and slashes again, fast and efficient, cutting shallow but vicious, carving me up piece by piece while conserving her strength.
“Hold still,” she mocks. “You’re making this messy.”
My lungs burn. My movements are slow.
I feel the tide shifting in her favor.
I feel the calculated patience in the way she waits for me to weaken, to panic, to drown.
“You’ll sink,” she tells me calmly. “Men always do.”
Something feral snaps inside my chest. “Not me,” I growl, even as my vision blurs.
I slam my forehead into her face with everything I have. Then I do it again. The crack of bone vibrates through my skull.
“Gah, you fucking bastard!”
I hit her a third time before she can recover, driving her backward through the water, then surge forward and slam her into the concrete wall beneath us. The impact rattles my teeth, blood running down my temple, and sends a fresh wave of pain through my side, but it buys me a second.
“Stay. The. Fuck. Down!” I grunt, pressing the advantage.
She laughs, dark and broken. “I thought you were stronger,” she taunts.
Her legs snap around my waist, crushing, locking me in place as she surges up, the blade flashing toward my throat again. Her grip tightens, using leverage and body weight, turning my size against me while my lungs scream for air.
“Just let go,” she snarls. “I’ll end it clean.”
I force out a rough, bubbling laugh, my hands scrabbling uselessly against her arms. “You don’t end me, bird.”
My fingers slide, finally finding something solid to grip onto, clamping around her throat. I squeeze, feeling tendons strain beneath my grip as she thrashes instantly, her entire body bucking with violent force.
“Do it,” she gasps, her nails raking across my face, then digging into my open wound with savage intent. “You don’t have the balls.”
Pain rips through me as her blade slices again, shallow but cruel, and my vision starts to tunnel. I grit my teeth and tighten my grip, pouring everything I have left into it.
“Gonna have to.” I gasp through burning lungs. “I usually don’t hurt women, but you’re not a typical kinda woman, are you?”
She fights like hell, kicking, clawing, as I shove her head under water, her movements growing frantic as air runs out. Bubbles tear from her mouth in desperate bursts, her body jerking against my hold.
“Fucker,” she chokes, the word breaking apart through the water.
“For them,” I snarl, tightening my fingers until my hands shake. “For every woman you broke.”
Her strength falters, and the fight drains out of her in slow, terrible seconds until her body goes slack in my grip.
I shove off the wall and break the surface with a raw, tearing gasp, air flooding my lungs as pain radiates from my side, the knife still buried deep. Every heartbeat sends fire through my body while I cling to consciousness by sheer will.
And finally, the bird floats up beside me.
Her eyes wide.
Empty.
Dead.
I drag in another breath, my voice rough, feral, barely holding together. “Should’ve stayed in the sky, you stupid bitch.”
Suddenly, something flashes red beneath the surface.
At first, I think it’s blood catching the emergency lights wrong, but then it blinks again.
My gut drops.
I grab her shoulder and roll her over, the water sloshing around us as her body turns. Strapped tight to her torso, half-hidden beneath tactical webbing, is a compact vest rigged with explosives, wires, charges, and a digital timer blinking steadily, almost calmly.
00:01:58
Fuck.
Her death must have tripped the failsafe.
Two minutes.
I don’t say a word.
My jaw locks as I catalog it all, my brain already moving, already counting distances, exits, bodies. Panic would kill more people than the blast if it got loose down here.
My job isn’t to react.
It’s to finish the mission.
I release her and let her drift, already pushing away, forcing my breathing steady despite the pain ripping through my side. Around me, my brothers are moving, shouting orders, securing rooms, protecting the women.
They don’t know.
And they won’t.
Not yet.
I slip my hand to the comm at my throat, thumb hovering, then lowering again.
No alarms.
No warnings.
Just action.
Two minutes to get everyone out.
Two minutes to outrun hell.
And I intend to make every second count.
City’s voice reaches me through the ringing in my ears. “Jesus, Pres… you scared the hell outta me.”
I try to laugh, but it comes out as a wet cough. “Always like to keep things interestin’.”
The pain in my side is intense, but I’ve had worse. I brace against the wall, trying to catch my breath. My hand instinctively goes to the knife, and I feel the warm, sticky blood seeping through my fingers.
My mind races through the options, and they all lead to the same conclusion. If I tell my brothers about the bomb right now, they’ll try to help me. They’ll waste precious seconds trying to get me out, and they’ll all die with me.
The women will die.
Everyone will die.
Unless I keep my mouth shut and buy them the time they need to escape.
“Get the women… out,” I tell City, fighting to keep my voice steady. “I’ll be there… in a sec… just need… to catch my breath.”
00:01:32
City starts toward me, and I hold up my hand to stop him. “VP, it’s your job to get those women out. I just need… a second. Focus on the job… we came here to do.”
“I can do both. Help you and them—”
“That’s an order, brother,” I say firmly, putting every ounce of presidential authority into my voice.
00:01:00
I see the hesitation hit him hard.
Bayou’s head pops down from above, water dripping from his hair as he peers at me. “Everything good?” he asks, eyes already searching for damage.
“Yeah,” City answers before I can. Too fast. Too forced.
I watch the guilt eat at him, see the way he swallows it down because that’s what we do. He grits his teeth, hesitates a few seconds longer than he wants to, then turns and moves, barking orders as he pushes the women forward.
Just like I told him to.
Just like he always does.
The seconds are bleeding out.
I feel it now, even without looking. Somewhere deep inside these walls, the countdown ticks on, silent and merciless, every second tightening around my chest like a vice.
00:00:45
Then the ceiling groans.
A deep, guttural sound ripples through the chamber, steel screaming as concrete fractures. The vibration runs through the water, through my bones, through what’s left of this place.
The crack comes without warning.
Concrete shears away in jagged chunks, dust and debris raining down as a thick, rusted steel support beam drops like a guillotine straight into the corridor.
Straight down onto me.
The impact crushes the air from my lungs as the beam slams across my body with a sickening crunch. Pain detonates, blinding and absolute, driving me down into the water.
The sound echoes.
Louder than the chaos.
Louder than the screaming.
Louder than my own heartbeat, roaring in my ears.