Chapter 23
Russ
We don’t stop until the engines disappear.
Until the gunfire fades behind us.
Until the canyon finally goes quiet except for exhausted breathing and boots scraping rock.
Lucas raises a hand.
“Hold.”
Everyone drops into cover automatically.
The civilians collapse where they can while Clay and Miles secure the ridge.
Nobody talks at first.
I crouch near the edge of the canyon studying the ground instead.
Tire tracks cut deep through the dirt.
Eastbound.
Fast.
Sloppy in places.
Good.
Means they were rushing.
“Talk to me,” Lucas says quietly behind me.
I don’t answer immediately.
My attention stays fixed on the tracks.
Patterns.
Weight distribution.
Direction.
Everything they left behind without realizing it.
“They headed east.”
Miles frowns. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“How?”
I finally glance up at him.
“Because they think we’ll expect west.”
Silence follows that.
Then Clay mutters quietly, “Trap.”
“Yeah.”
Lucas moves closer beside me. “You think they’re waiting for us?”
I look back toward the canyon horizon.
Toward wherever they took her.
“I know they are.”
Because I would.
Because it’s smart.
Because if someone had taken one of mine—
I’d come straight for them too.
Miles shifts uncomfortably nearby. “She’s bait now.”
My jaw tightens instantly.
“She’s not bait.”
“Russ—”
“She’s not bait.”
The words cut harder this time.
Sharp enough that silence drops immediately afterward.
Good.
Because I’m not having that conversation.
Not about her.
Not ever.
Lucas studies me carefully for a second before nodding once.
“We go after her.”
“Immediately,” I say.
“No delays.”
Clay reloads his weapon with a metallic snap. “Walking straight into their setup sounds fun.”
“Everything about this is bad,” Miles mutters.
No argument there.
Lucas crouches beside me and studies the terrain map in his hands. “We don’t rush blind.”
“We don’t wait either.”
His eyes flick toward me briefly.
Measuring.
Calculating.
Then finally—
“Agreed.”
Good.
Because there was never another option.
Clay glances toward the east ridge. “They’re gonna use her against us.”
Something vicious twists in my chest at the thought.
I shove it down hard before it can spread.
Focus.
Emotion later.
Violence first.
“They don’t get the chance,” I say quietly.
Miles folds his arms. “And how exactly do you plan on pulling that off?”
Simple.
“We hit them before they’re ready.”
Lucas watches me another second.
Then slowly nods.
“Fast strike.”
“Fast and surgical.”
No hesitation.
No drawn-out firefight.
Get in.
Get her.
Get out.
That’s it.
I rise to my feet and look east again.
Toward wherever they’re holding her.
The image hits immediately anyway—
Olivia tied up somewhere bleeding through that bandage while pretending she isn’t scared.
Jaw tightens.
Breathing steady.
Waiting for us.
Waiting for me.
“She’s alive,” I say quietly.
Miles glances toward me. “You sure?”
I don’t hesitate.
“Yeah.”
Because I know her.
Because she’s too stubborn to die quietly.
Because she’ll fight them every second she’s breathing.
And because there’s something deep in my gut telling me she’s still holding on.
Waiting.
I check my weapon one last time.
The click of the magazine locking into place echoes softly through the rocks.
“Gear up,” I say.
The team moves instantly.
Weapons checked.
Ammo redistributed.
Routes discussed.
Everyone slipping back into mission mode.
And me?
I feel strangely calm now.
Not numb.
Focused.
Cold enough to be dangerous.
Because this stopped being about survival the second they took her.
Now it’s personal.
And God help whoever’s standing between me and Olivia when I get there.