101
EMERSYN
I stood on the back of the boat and watched the inflatable with Nyx and Atlas’ team disappear into the darkness. The rotors of the helo whirled to life behind me as Arkady did her final checks. I was ready. Adrenaline surged through my veins—the usual nerves before a job.
I paced the deck. I needed to move. I hated the moments right before, when all the plans were set, everything was ready to go, it just wasn’t go-time yet.
I wondered how Griffin and Seven were doing.
Once the other team was in position, he would get the green light to blow up the landing strip.
We were too far away to see or hear anything though.
Without them nearby, it felt like a piece of me was missing.
I rubbed my chest at the odd feeling. I hadn’t felt attachment like that in years.
“Load up!” My father barked.
I pushed all of those emotions aside, as we piled onto the skids of the Little Bird and it lifted off the boat. I’d never been transported like this before. It was exhilarating hanging half out the helo while the dark water rushed under my feet.
We were halfway to the island when I heard my father’s voice.
“What do you mean they didn’t detonate?” My father barked into the comms unit.
I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but it obviously wasn’t good. Nerves clutched at my heart. My father listened intently at whoever was on the other end.
“Roger that,” he said.
“DZ is clear! Two minutes out!” Arkady called.
Well, at least that meant Nyx and Atlas’ side of things had gone off without a hitch.
“Get ready,” my father ordered.
I didn’t bother asking about the failed detonation. Part of me didn’t want to know if it was bad, because I didn’t want it to impede on what I was about to do. We circled the estate, and I focused on the rope as it was dropped to the ground.
My father went first. He was the picture of calm competence.
I was next. I dropped from the rope and the minute my feet touched the ground, my gun was in my hands.
It was strange to be back on the island.
My nerves were in overdrive. But at least this time I had night vision and a shit ton of firepower behind me.
I saw my father glance up at the roof and followed his gaze to see figures up on the terraces. He saluted them, and I heard Atlas over comms as our communications with that team merged.
“Overwatch in position,” Atlas reported.
“Roger that. Nyx?”
“Third floor clear,” he said. “Making my way to you.”
“Roger. Entering ground level now.”
My father motioned for our group to move to the nearest door.
I followed behind him, convinced he would act like Riggs during a job.
I braced for him to be overbearing and protective.
We crossed the grounds, and I felt him keep me in his periphery.
My blood heated, I was not going to go through this again.
But, Griffin’s words came back to me—he didn’t know what I was fully capable of, but I would show him.
We swept into the side entrance. The manor was dark, with only the soft glow of the emergency lighting illuminated along the baseboards.
It was also suspiciously quiet. My father led us through the rooms with Graham at his shoulder, and then me, followed by Tex and Sakari.
The first two rooms dumped into a hallway which gave way to a great room.
We’d just stepped into the room when the far doors opened and a grenade was thrown.
I dove behind a couch as it exploded. It was followed by gunfire as guards held the far door and pinned us down.
Fabric exploded over my head with each shower of bullets.
My father and Graham were pinned down a few feet away, with Tex and Sakari on the other side.
There was a door behind us that, I knew from the schematics, led to a shared bathroom. I signaled to my father.
He nodded. “Graham, on me. Tex, smoke the door.”
Tex confirmed, and smoke burst out of a grenade he launched into the center of the room.
I inched the bathroom door open, and checked to make sure it was clear before I moved in and headed for the door that led into the next great room.
I inched it open and peeked out. I clocked several guards and signaled the information to the team.
My father counted down on his fingers, and we exploded into the room. Through the haze of smoke, we took out the guards. Once the room was clear, we split the two doors leading into the next room and had just converged in the hallway, when a blur of movement shifted through the smoke.
“Contact left!”
A body slammed into me, and together we crashed through the large floor-to-ceiling window.
“Cover her!”
“Contact right! North!”
I heard shouts and gunfire as glass showered down around me.
Air was shoved from my lungs, and I landed hard on the grass.
I rolled across the lawn tangled with my attacker.
White light exploded across my vision as we hit a stone wall and broke apart.
The taste of iron flooded my tongue, and pain erupted through my shoulder.
Everything went silent except for a ringing in my ears.
Hands grabbed my vest and I was turned onto my back. It was Brooks.
He had scratches from the glass on his face, and his chest heaved as he straddled my hips. I vaguely wondered where my father was, but I heard gunfire and realized they’d probably run into enemy fire inside the house.
He sneered. “On your back where you belong, Hurricane.”
I spat blood in his face in response and shoved him off.
We got to our feet and he advanced again, fast. He drove a knee at my ribs.
I twisted to deflect, and we danced across the damp lawn exchanging punches.
I landed two in quick succession, and thought I had him—but he was too fast. He grabbed my neck, and stars burst behind my eyes as he headbutted me.
He shoved me away and I staggered backward.
“You think you can take me,” he panted. “But, you’re just a fucking weak-ass bitch.”
I bared bloody teeth and loosened my neck.
I didn’t have the breath to speak, but I beckoned him in.
He pulled his knife with a smirk and advanced.
He threw a punch at my ribs—I barely blocked it.
Another blow glanced off my jaw, and then the blade came for my throat.
I blocked his wrist with my forearm, and the knife sliced through my skin as I stepped away.
“Still nothing to say, Hurricane?” Brooks taunted. “Usually I like my women silent, but where’s that mouth of yours? I was looking forward to teaching it a lesson.”
“You’re not worth it, Brooks,” I snarled. “This is where it ends for you.”
Brooks chuckled. “We’ll see.”
He charged and when we collided, I unleashed all the fury, and violence, and years of pent up rage at a system meant to destroy me. I caught his wrist, lunged sideways, and drove him face first into the stone fountain at the center of the lawn.
The crack was deafening. Brooks dropped to his knees, dazed. He swung wildly, but the blood ran down into his eyes. I slammed his head into the stone one final time, and Brooks collapsed. His body slumped against the fountain as his blood turned the water red.
“That’s all I have to say, fucker,” I snarled.