Chapter 13 Ethan
Ethan
The quiet hits first.
Not the calm kind.
The wrong kind.
I wake before I move, senses already reaching—listening, measuring.
No wind.
No rain.
No storm.
My eyes open.
Ava’s already watching me.
“What is it?” she whispers.
I tilt my head slightly, listening again.
Nothing.
“No storm.”
That’s all it takes.
She moves instantly—grabbing her weapon, coming up in one smooth motion.
“Too quiet,” she murmurs.
“Yeah.”
We don’t rush.
Rushing gets you killed.
We move to the windows—low, controlled, careful with every step.
I ease the curtain up—
Just enough—
—and freeze.
Vehicles.
Three.
Black.
Positioned like they’ve been there awhile.
Not sweeping.
Not searching.
Waiting.
“They found us,” Ava breathes.
My jaw tightens.
“Not found.”
She looks at me.
“Tracked.”
Yeah.
Exactly.
Too clean.
Too precise.
No guesswork.
“They know we’re here,” she says.
“Yeah.”
“Then why aren’t they moving?”
I don’t answer right away.
I watch.
Study.
Wait.
“They’re not alone.”
Right on cue—
A fourth vehicle rolls into position.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Not rushing.
That’s when I see it.
Mounted on the back.
Signal array.
My stomach drops.
“They’re running a tracker.”
Ava’s gaze sharpens. “On what?”
Good question.
Because we didn’t bring anything traceable.
Didn’t risk it.
Didn’t—
My eyes snap across the room.
Med kit.
Petrov.
No.
Ava sees it at the same time.
“Check him.”
I’m already moving.
Dropping beside him, flipping him just enough to scan fast.
Nothing obvious.
No external device.
No—
Wait.
I grab his wrist.
Turn it.
There.
Under the skin.
A faint ridge.
Too straight.
Too clean.
Too recent.
“Damn it.”
Ava’s voice cuts low. “What?”
“They tagged him.”
Her expression hardens instantly.
“How?”
“Implant.”
A beat.
Then—
“They wanted us to take him.”
Yeah.
This was never a rescue.
It was bait.
“And we walked right into it,” she mutters.
Not anymore.
I push to my feet.
“They’re setting up.”
Ava shifts to the opposite window, counting, tracking movement.
“Six… maybe eight on the ground,” she says. “More in the vehicles.”
“Overwatch too,” I add.
“Always.”
Silence hangs for a split second.
Then she looks at me.
Decision already made.
“They’re not letting us walk out.”
“No.”
Her grip tightens on her weapon.
“Then we fight.”
Of course we do.
I check my mag. Chamber. Position.
Options—
Limited.
Very limited.
“They’ll breach from two sides,” I say. “Push us into the open.”
Ava nods once.
“Then we don’t let them control it.”
Exactly.
She steps closer, already thinking ahead.
“Back exit. We break before they close in.”
I shake my head.
“They’re waiting for that.”
“Then we make them react.”
I look at her.
Really look.
She’s locked in now.
This is her element.
Pressure.
Chaos.
No room for mistakes.
“Distraction?” I ask.
Her lips curve just slightly.
There she is.
“Always.”
Movement outside.
Fast.
Coordinated.
“They’re moving.”
Ava doesn’t hesitate.
“Then we move first.”
She grabs a flare.
Strikes it—
light bursts to life—
—and she hurls it through the window.
Glass explodes outward.
Light floods the darkness.
Shouts erupt outside.
Confusion.
Movement.
“Go!”
We move.
Fast.
Out the back.
Into the trees.
Low.
Controlled—
Gunfire rips through the air behind us.
Too fast.
Too accurate.
“They adjusted quick,” I mutter.
“They expected resistance.”
Yeah.
But not like this.
We cut hard left, pushing through thick brush, branches tearing at clothes, slowing just enough to stay hidden—
A shot cracks past my shoulder.
Too close.
“Sniper!”
I catch the flash.
High.
Tree line.
I drop, pivot—
fire twice.
The position goes still.
“Clear.”
“For now.”
We keep moving.
No slowing.
Behind us—engines roar.
They’re repositioning.
“They’re herding us.”
“Yeah.”
“Into what?”
I don’t answer.
Because I already know I won’t like it.
We break into a clearing—
—and stop.
Another team.
Waiting.
Weapons up.
Exactly where we were being pushed.
Kill box.
Perfect.
Ava sees it at the same time.
We both freeze—
just for a second.
Too exposed.
Too open.
Too late.
“Well,” she breathes.
“Yeah.”
Her hand brushes mine.
Quick.
Grounding.
Familiar.
“We’re not dying here.”
I glance at her.
A smirk pulls at my mouth.
“No.”
I raise my weapon.
“Not today.”
And the world erupts.