Chapter Eleven
The night pressed heavy and damp, the kind that clung to skin and breath alike.
From the cliffs, the Pacific heaved against the rock face, each crash distant but resonant.
Drew lay half-awake, that soldier’s half-rest where sleep was shallow and the mind was always listening.
Beside him, Kael’s slow, steady breathing kept rhythm with the muted hiss of the ocean. It should have been peaceful.
Then Kael’s phone buzzed.
The vibration against the nightstand sounded like an alarm bell to Drew’s tuned instincts. Kael was upright in an instant, muscles taut. His hand hovered over the screen before he swiped. The light illuminated the edges of his face, sharp with tension.
Marsh’s name.
Code red—they’re coming for you.
The words carved through the dark. Drew’s pulse kicked into overdrive.
A second message followed before Kael could speak. Got a message through backchannels. Someone’s asking if Black Tide is good or evil. If they’re asking, it means someone’s already decided you’re a threat. Move now.
Kael didn’t curse. He didn’t waste time. His breathing steadied, and the shift happened—the calm, lethal focus that made him the leader he was. “Up,” he said quietly.
Drew was already moving. “What’s the play?”
Before Kael could answer, the night erupted. Distant shouts. The heavy rhythm of boots pounding gravel. A crack of suppressed gunfire split the silence, too close, too deliberate.
“Shit,” Kael muttered. “We’re under attack.”
The words were unnecessary. Drew was already yanking on pants, holstering his sidearm, strapping a blade to his thigh.
Every motion was automatic, muscle memory refined by years of surviving ambushes.
He tossed Kael his weapon, loaded his own, and rolled his shoulders to shake off the last remnants of rest. The air smelled of oil, sea salt, and danger.
“Too late for the new security plan,” Drew drawled.
Kael shot him a quick grin—grim but genuine. “Then we improvise.”
He grabbed the comms kit, snapping it open with practiced precision. “Torch, Breaker, Reef, Manō—call signs active. Aunty’s at the main house. I want eyes on her now.”
Luka’s voice cut through. “Drones in the air. Multiple tangos, Surge. North side’s crawling. They move like the military—tight and trained.”
“Copy that,” Kael said. “You and Reef take high ground. Torch, Breaker—south and east. Quick, quiet, deadly.”
The faintest smirk tugged at Drew’s mouth. God, he loved it when Kael talked like that. It meant they were in motion again—predators, not prey.
Before they could step outside, a loudspeaker cracked through the humid air. “Kael Makani! Drew Hawkins! We have your woman—Aunty Leilani. Step out now, or she dies.”
The statement froze everything. Drew saw Kael’s eyes darken, rage and fear warring behind that calm exterior.
“Kael,” Drew said softly. “Breathe.”
Kael inhaled through his nose, the tremor gone by the exhale. “We move.” He tossed Drew an earpiece. “A tech gift from the Pathfinders, open channel.”
“Got it.” Drew fit it snugly behind his ear and checked his weapon. He gave Kael a small nod. “On your six.”
They slipped into the night.
The humidity was suffocating, wrapping them in a sheen of sweat as soon as they cleared the camper.
The compound was half-hidden beneath the moonlight, shadows deep and liquid.
Somewhere toward the cliffs, a motor rumbled low.
Drew’s boots barely scuffed the gravel. The air thrummed with tension, filled with the metallic tang of gun oil and the faint brine of the sea.
Kael stopped near the garage, signaling for silence. From the comm came Torch’s voice—cocky as ever. “Got eyes on three by the back of the garage. They’re moving slow, like they think we don’t see ‘em.”
“Don’t get cute,” Kael warned.
“Too late.” Torch’s chuckle was pure sin.
Drew’s hand brushed Kael’s shoulder—reassurance, steady and sure. It was a move that said, relax, we’ve done this before.
Then the night blew apart.
Gunfire shattered the quiet. Bullets whined off metal. Kael grabbed Drew and pulled him down behind a truck, their shoulders colliding hard enough to bruise. Sparks sprayed across the gravel as rounds pinged off the hood.
“North perimeter engaged,” Reef ‘s voice came harsh over comms, breathless but composed.
Kael’s response was automatic. “Torch, suppress the north flank. Reef, circle left. Breaker feed visuals to all channels.”
“Copy that,” Breaker replied, fingers no doubt flying across his screens. “Six visible, maybe more inside the west fence.”
Drew leaned out, sighting along his barrel. A shadow moved, and he fired once—center mass. The figure dropped. Another darted behind a shipping crate, but Kael was faster. His return shot cracked clean and final.
“Nice shot.” Drew asked.
Kael tipped his head to the side. “Why thank you.”
Another volley of gunfire erupted. Torch’s explosion followed seconds later, ripping through the tree line to the east. The shockwave hit like a physical thing, heat and dust rolling over them.
“Nice,” Drew said between coughs.
Kael’s voice was dry. “He’s compensating.”
Over the comm, Torch whooped. “Two birds, one boom!”
Drew followed Kael along the south wall of the warehouse. “How do you feel about Torch blowing the shit out of the compound?”
Kael’s rifle hit his shoulder before barking again, the groan of a man injured music to Drew’s ears.
“I’d be pissed if he were. Our Mother Earth, Papahānaumokuākea means too damn much to us to scar her permanently.
Nah, he’s just using precision blasts from both flash bangs and concussion grenades.
The man’s a fucking artist with those suckers. ”
Luka cut in. “More inbound from the east—three trucks, ETA two minutes. I’ll jam their comms.”
Kael swore softly. “You heard him. We hold until the others close ranks.” He risked a glance around the truck. “Four hostiles in the open, two more flanking left. Reef?”
“On it.”
Gunfire popped again, closer now. Drew’s pulse thundered. He pivoted, dropped one with a clean headshot. Another came in low, weapon raised, but Drew fired through the man’s shoulder and watched him spin out of sight.
“Still think we should’ve gone back to sleep. Left these dumbasses to the rest of the team” Drew muttered.
Kael smirked. “You’d miss the excitement.”
“Yeah, my idea of excitement involves fewer bullets.”
Kael keyed the mic. “Torch, detonate anything near the north gate.”
“Gladly.”
The explosion lit up the compound like daylight, throwing silhouettes across the walls. One of the attackers screamed—a raw, awful sound that cut off too fast.
“Surge!” Luka’s voice jumped back into the comm. “Got confirmation—three trucks neutralized. But I’ve got movement near the cliffs. Ten—no, twelve bodies still on the ground. They’re regrouping.”
“Understood,” Kael said. “We hold them here.” He looked at Drew. “Ready?”
Drew nodded. “Always.”
They broke from cover, sprinting across open ground toward the main gate.
The air reeked of burning fuel and cordite.
A spray of gunfire chased them, bits of stone and metal biting into their legs, and a pained groan through their comms had Kael cursing.
Drew returned fire mid-stride, catching a man square in the chest.
Kael vaulted a low wall and landed in a crouch beside him. “Reef, status!”
Static answered, then Reef’s strained voice. “Hit—calf. I’m good. It’s bleeding like a bitch, but I’m still fighting.”
Drew’s chest clenched. Reef might be his 2IC, but he was also the youngest of them. The thought of him down twisted Drew’s gut.
“Stay with me, Reef,” Kael snapped. “Torch, cover him!”
“Copy that,” Torch replied. “Will head his way now, will take out any fucker who stands between me and mine.”
Gunfire flared again. Kael’s hand brushed Drew’s arm, grounding him. “We need to push forward. Aunty’s still in their hands.”
“Then let’s go get her.”
They moved like ghosts, cutting across the smoke-drenched yard. The floodlights were still off, but the faint gleam of metal and fire guided their path. Every breath burned, every muscle thrummed.
Then Drew saw it—a flicker of movement from the roof line of the command center, a glint of glass. “Sniper,” he hissed. How in the hell had the bastard gotten up there?
Kael reacted instantly, shoving him down as a bullet tore through the air where Drew’s head had been. It ricocheted off a post, showering sparks.
“Talk to me, Breaker,” Kael barked.
“Got him,” Luka said. “Roof of the east end of the garage and command center. Sending coordinates to Māno.”
Māno’s growl was short and mean. “Say goodnight.” A split-second later, a precise double shot silenced the sniper.
Kael exhaled, then called through the comm, voice sharp and cutting. “Everyone check in. Reef’s hit—we need status updates from everyone. Now.”
One by one, the replies came.
“Breaker, good.”
“Torch, still pretty, and I have Reef who is a real potty mouth when he’s hurt.”
“Manō, fully operational.”
Kael’s jaw flexed. “Hold positions. We regroup in two.”
Drew’s chest was heaving, the adrenaline sharp enough to taste. He glanced at Kael—blood on his shoulder, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes hard but steady.
The night around them was chaos—firelight flickering off the sea mist, the compound echoing with gunfire and shouts. But under it all, Drew felt the same certainty he always did when Kael led the charge.
Whatever came next—they’d face it together.
Kael raised his comm, his voice steady despite the roar of battle. “Black Tide—tighten formation. None of these fuckers are getting out of here alive. Torch, south side”
The order snapped through the air like lightning, and the war for their home began.
****