37. Blake
THIRTY-SEVEN
Blake
The tender reunion between Sophia and Luke is shattered in an instant. The sharp crack of gunfire splits the air, and time seems to slow. I react on pure instinct, my body moving before my mind can process what’s happening.
“Get down!” I roar, launching myself at Sophia and Luke. We hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs. Bullets whiz overhead, so close I can feel their heat. The acrid smell of gun powder fills the air, mixing with the metallic tang of fear.
RUFI-2 engages the guard with cold efficiency; its mechanical movements are deadly accurate despite the chaos around us. The guard falls, but I know it’s just the beginning.
“Charlie team, this is Bravo Lead.” Brady’s voice crackles over the comms, tight with urgency. “We’ve got multiple tangos converging on your position. You need to exfil now.”
Ethan snaps back to attention, his eyes clearing of the daze that settled over him at the sight of the unknown woman.
“Copy that,” he responds, his voice sharp with renewed focus. “Charlie team, move out. Command, we’ve got four to extract. Back to the cliff face.”
We form a protective circle around our charges: Sophia clutching Luke to her chest, the boy’s face buried in her neck, the mystery woman, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and determination, and the little girl, clinging to the woman’s hand as if it’s a lifeline.
Our progress is agonizingly slow. Every step feels like a mile, and each corner is a potential death trap. Malfor’s men seem to materialize from the very walls, their gunfire a constant, deafening roar.
We’re pinned down in a wide corridor, caught in a vicious crossfire. Bullets chip away at our cover, showering us with debris. The air is thick with smoke and the desperate cries of our team trying to coordinate over the chaos.
“We’re not going to make it like this,” Gabe shouts, his voice strained as he returns fire.
Just as hopelessness threatens to overtake us, the world explodes. The ceiling behind us erupts in a shower of concrete and steel. Through the newly created hole, in drops Bravo team, their exosuits gleaming despite the dust and debris.
“Thought you could use a hand.” Brady grins, his rifle already blazing. The tide turns in an instant, Bravo team’s firepower giving us the edge we desperately need.
“Move, move, move!” Ethan bellows, his voice cutting through the chaos.
We make a break for it, the RUFI taking point, their sensors alerting us to threats before we can see them. I’ve got Sophia and Luke, her arms wrapped around her son in a grip that would take an army to break.
Ahead of us, Gabe struggles with the woman. She’s got the girl in a vice-like grip, both stumbling as Gabe tries to urge them forward. The little girl’s face is buried in the woman’s neck, trembling with fear.
“Ma’am, please,” Gabe pleads, his voice strained as he tries to keep them moving while returning fire. “We need to move faster. It’s not safe here.”
The woman shakes her head vehemently, clutching the girl tighter. “I won’t let her go,” she chokes out between ragged breaths.
Suddenly, Sophia’s voice rings out, sharp and clear despite the chaos around us. “Violet. It’s okay. These men are here to rescue us. You can trust them.”
The woman—Violet—hesitates, her eyes darting between Sophia and Gabe. For a moment, I think she might still refuse, but then she gives a shaky nod.
“Zephyr, sweetheart,” Violet says, her voice trembling as she kneels to her daughter’s level. “Mommy will be right behind you. Can you be brave for me?”
The little girl—Zephyr—nods, her eyes wide with fear but trusting in her mother’s words. Ethan steps forward, his movements surprisingly gentle as he takes Zephyr’s hand.
“Zephyr, my name’s Ethan. You’ll be safe with me,” Ethan assures Violet, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it.
Violet reluctantly lets go of her daughter, allowing Gabe to guide her forward. Ethan takes charge of Zephyr, his movements protective yet oddly tender.
The reconfigured group moves faster now, but I can’t help noticing how Ethan keeps glancing back at Violet, a mixture of confusion and recognition in his eyes.
“Keep moving,” I shout, urging the group forward as another burst of gunfire erupts behind us. “We’re almost there.”
The journey back is a hellish gauntlet of gunfire and near-misses. We move as one unit, our formation tight, protecting our charges at all costs. Bravo team works around us, providing suppressive fire as we escort our rescues out.
The exosuits prove their worth, allowing us to move quickly despite the added weight.
A bullet grazes my arm, the sharp pain barely registering through the adrenaline. Luke whimpers, and Sophia’s soothing whispers somehow cut through the chaos.
“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s got you. We’re going to be okay.”
As we near the cliff face, the power of the storm hits us like a gale-force wind. The wind howls a banshee’s wail that threatens to knock us off our feet. Rain lashes at us, reducing visibility to mere feet. It’s as if nature itself is conspiring against our escape .
“There,” Ethan shouts, pointing toward the cliff edge where we left our descent gear.
Relief floods through me, but it’s short-lived. A fresh wave of Malfor’s men emerges from the compound, their gunfire intensifying.
“Cover us,” I yell, making a dash for the gear with Sophia and Luke.
Bravo team lays down suppressing fire as I work frantically to secure makeshift harnesses around Sophia and Luke. My hands shake with adrenaline and cold, the wet ropes slipping in my grasp.
“You’re doing great,” I tell Sophia, meeting her eyes. The fear there is palpable, but beneath it burns a fierce determination. She nods, tightening her grip on Luke.
I look over to see Ethan working on the little girl’s harness, his movements mechanical and distracted. His gaze keeps drifting to Violet.
“Ethan,” I call out over the howling wind. “You good?”
He starts, as if pulled from deep thought. “Yeah—yeah, I’m fine.” But there’s turmoil in his eyes. Violet bears an uncanny resemblance to someone, but in the chaos of the moment, I can’t place who.
Gabe works on securing Violet, his voice a constant stream of reassurance as he straps her into a harness. She’s calmer now, but her eyes never leave her daughter.
“We need to move. Now,” Walt interrupts, his voice sharp with urgency.
As if to emphasize his point, a bullet pings off the rocks near us, sending fragments flying. The little girl cries out in fear, and the woman’s head snaps up.
“Zephyr!” she screams, struggling against her harness. “Let me go to her!”
“Ma’am, please,” Gabe pleads, struggling to keep her still. “You need to stay calm. We’re getting you both out of here, I promise.”
“Everyone hooked up?” Ethan calls out, his voice barely audible over the storm and gunfire.
A chorus of affirmatives rings out. I move toward Sophia and Luke, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. I reach for Sophia, intending to secure her to my harness, but Sophia’s hand on my arm stops me.
She looks up at me, her eyes blazing with an intensity that takes my breath away. Despite the chaos around us, despite the bullets whizzing past and the howling wind, time seems to slow for just a moment.
“You take Luke,” Sophia says, her voice steady and sure. “I trust you with his life.”
After everything she’s been through, everything she’s endured to protect her son, she’s willing to entrust him to me? The faith in her eyes is almost more than I can bear.
I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. With quick, efficient movements, I secure Luke to my harness. The boy wraps his arms around my neck, his small body trembling against mine.
“It’s okay, buddy,” I murmur, hoping he can hear me over the storm. “I’ve got you.”
Sophia gives Luke a quick, fierce hug before Walt helps her into position. Around us, the team is pairing up with their charges. Ethan has the little girl secured to his harness. Gabe is with Violet, speaking to her in low, reassuring tones as he double-checks her harness.
“On my mark,” Ethan shouts, his hand raised. The gunfire intensifies, Malfor’s men making one last desperate push to stop us. “Three... Two... One... MARK!”
We step off the cliff edge into howling oblivion, the storm enveloping us as we begin our descent. The world becomes a blur of wind, rain, and the terrified cries of our charges.
Luke’s arms tighten around my neck, his face buried against my shoulder. I can feel his rapid heartbeat, or maybe it’s my own, pounding in time with the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
Through the chaos, I catch glimpses of the others. Sophia, her face set in grim determination as Walt guides their descent. Ethan, somehow managing to look both fiercely protective and deeply troubled as he shields Zephyr from the worst of the wind. Gabe and Violet, the woman’s eyes locked on her daughter even as they plummet through the air.
Bravo team remains on the ground, protecting our descent. The cliff face rushes past us, a blur of wet rock. Every few seconds, a bullet pings off the rocks nearby, a stark reminder that we’re not out of danger yet.
Suddenly, a particularly strong gust of wind slams us against the cliff face. I twist, taking the brunt of the impact to shield Luke. Pain explodes across my back, but I grit my teeth and keep going. Luke whimpers, and I tighten my hold on him.
“Hey, Luke,” I say, “have you ever seen any superhero movies?”
He nods, a flicker of interest in his eyes despite the fear.
“Only superheroes get to scale down cliffs like this.” I gesture to the daunting drop before us. “Guess what? Today, you get to be a superhero too.”
For the first time, a small smile tugs at Luke’s lips. “Really?”
“Really,” I confirm, grinning back at him. “And you know what? I bet you’re going to be even braver than Captain America.”
To my left, Walt struggles with Sophia. She’s weak from her captivity, barely able to hold on. Walt has her secured tightly to him, practically carrying her down the cliff face.
“Stay with me, Sophia,” I hear him growl. “Don’t you dare give up now. Your boy needs you.”
On my right, Gabe is managing our mystery woman. She seems to be in better shape than Sophia, but the terror on her face is apparent every time lightning illuminates the sky.
“Don’t look down,” Gabe advises her. “Just focus on me. One step at a time.”
The RUFI move around us, their mechanical bodies unaffected by the wind and rain. They set anchors, adjust ropes; their tireless efforts the only thing making this insane descent possible.
I keep talking to Luke, turning each terrifying moment into an adventure.
Suddenly, another massive gust of wind slams into us. My grip slips, and a moment of heart-stopping terror fills me. Luke and I swing out over the abyss. The boy screams, the sound piercing even through the storm’s fury, but it’s not a cry of fear. The little shit is having the time of his life. I play it up and milk it for everything I’ve got.
“Whoa, did you feel that?” I say as a gust buffets us. “I think Thor’s trying to help us fly.”
Luke giggles, his fear momentarily forgotten. “Thor doesn’t fly, silly. He has a hammer.”
“Oh, right.” I laugh. “My mistake. Maybe it’s Iron Man then?”
We continue our descent, each meter gained a victory against the storm and gravity. The sounds of combat from above grow fainter, replaced by the crash of waves below. We’re close now. So close.
Throughout the perilous journey down, I keep the superhero narrative going. When we pause for the RUFI to reset our ropes, I tell Luke we’re using our ‘Spidey-sense’ to find the safest path. When the rain lashes at us, I say it’s Aquaman trying to give us a boost.
Despite the danger, despite the storm and the sheer drop below us, Luke relaxes his death grip, and he looks around with curiosity rather than fear.
“Are you a superhero?” he asks as we near the bottom.
I smile down at him. “Nah, I’m just a regular guy. But you know who the real superhero is?” I pause for effect.
“No.”
“Your mom. She’s the bravest, strongest person I know.”
As we continue our descent, I can’t help but reflect on the weight of Luke’s words. The innocence of a child, coupled with the harsh reality of what he and Sophia have endured, makes our mission feel even more crucial. We’re not rescuing hostages; we’re reuniting a family.
After what feels like an eternity, my feet touch solid ground. I stumble, my legs shaky from the descent and the weight of Luke. Around me, I hear the others landing, their breathing heavy and ragged.
“That was awesome! Can we do it again?” Luke looks up at me, his eyes shining .
“Maybe next time, buddy.” I can’t help but laugh, relief and amusement washing over me. “Bravo team is coming down now, and we don’t want to be in their way.”
One by one, the rest of my team touches down. Walt with Sophia, who collapses to her knees the moment she’s on solid ground. Violet looks shell-shocked but alive.
The rest of the team, including the RUFI, are all accounted for.
“Command, Charlie team is on the ground,” Ethan calls in our progress.
“Copy that, Charlie team. Bravo is on their way.” CJ’s voice crackles through our comms. “What’s your status?”
Ethan looks around, taking a quick headcount. “All packages secured. Requesting immediate evac.”
The storm surges, the wind driving sheets of rain against the cliff face, and the water below churns, slamming against the rocks. There’s almost no ground—except for a jagged outcropping of rocks that juts out from the base of the cliff. The sea crashes against it, sending sprays of cold salt water into the air.
I glance back up at the looming cliff we just descended, barely able to make out the figures of Bravo team on their way down. The compound is lost in the storm above, but the faint sound of ongoing combat continues. Alpha team is giving Malfor’s men a run for their money and will be the last to exfil.
“Charlie team, this is HQ.” CJ’s voice comes through, thick with static. “Exfil chopper is en route. ETA three minutes.”
Those three minutes stretch into what feels like an eternity. We take up defensive positions, eyes locked on the cliff top, muscles tense, waiting for any sign of pursuit.
The distant sound of an approaching helicopter reaches us.
It emerges from the darkness like a ghost, its rotors slicing through the night air, hovering just above that jagged outcropping of rocks. A single line drops down, swaying in the storm’s fury.
My heart pounds, and my muscles tense.
The wind howls, the storm almost mocking our situation as I tighten my grip on Luke, the kid trembling in my arms. His small hands clutch at my gear, knuckles white. Earlier, when we were scaling down the cliffs, I joked with him about playing superhero. It got him to laugh—just a little—but now, with the water crashing against the rocks below and the storm battering us, his fear creeps back in.
“One line, everyone clips in. First four with the rescuees.” Ethan’s voice crackles through the comms, steady as ever, cutting through the chaos. “We go in pairs. Move fast. Stay together.”
I glance toward the jagged rocks jutting out ahead—the only place solid enough to get a foothold. The water surges, slamming against the base of the cliff, the spray soaking through my gear. I shift Luke in my arms, forcing my voice to stay light.
"Remember, we’re still playing superhero, right? Gotta make a quick dash and catch that rope." His wide eyes meet mine, and I give him a quick wink before nodding toward the outcropping where the helicopter lines whip violently in the wind. “Then we fly through the air.”
“Fly?” Luke tries to put on a brave face, but he trembles in my arms.
"On my go," Ethan orders.
Heart pounding, I crouch low. “Hold on tight, buddy,” I murmur, feeling Luke cling tighter as the chopper’s spotlight cuts through the storm.
"Go!" Ethan’s command snaps through the storm.
I push off, my boots finding purchase on the slick rocks as I sprint toward the lines. Luke's weight makes every step feel precarious, but there’s no time to think, just react. The sea roars beneath us, the wind yanks the line back and forth, and I lunge forward, grabbing the rope with one hand while keeping Luke secure with the other.
Luke clings to me, his arms tight around my neck. His heartbeat pounds against my chest, matching the rapid thrum of my own.
The rest of the team clips in, one by one, until it’s Ethan’s turn. He’s the last to attach, taking position as the final link on the line .
“All set, HQ. Get us out of here,” Ethan signals through the comms, voice steady, despite the chaos around us.
The helicopter winch whirs to life, the line pulling taut as we begin to rise, slowly at first. The ground drops away beneath our boots, jagged rocks and surging water growing smaller as we ascend. All ten of us—six team members and four rescuees—dangle beneath the chopper in a single line, the wind battering us from all sides.
Luke tightens his hold on me, his head pressed against my chest.
“It’s just like flying, remember?” I murmur, though the wind rips the words from my mouth before I can tell if he heard me.
We rise higher, the storm pressing in, but the winch holds steady. Slowly, we’re reeled toward the safety of the helicopter. I focus on the weight of Luke in my arms, the tension in the line, and the rhythmic hum of the rotors above us.
Finally, as we near the belly of the chopper, a hand reaches out, pulling us in. One by one, each team member and rescuee is hauled into the safety of the aircraft. The storm rages outside, but inside, there’s a sense of calm—a breath we’ve been holding for too long, now finally released.
We’re safe. All of us.
For now.