But tonight, hope kicked in their fucking door.
Grit’s voice crackles through the comms. “Hurricane. They’ve got bird assassins down here. Female operatives and their fast. One just took out Jarred.”
My gut drops.
“Shit,” I snarl.
And we move again. “Can you confirm, Grit. Bird operatives are in the buildin’?” I snap.
“Confirmed. Tactical suits, knives, silent entries. I barely got away from the one who got Jarred.”
Fuck.
Then Hoodoo’s voice cuts in with news that makes my stomach drop. “Pres, we’ve got a bigger issue. They’ve ruptured a water main. This whole level’s flooding. Looks like they’d rather sacrifice these women than let their secret get out.”
Of course they would.
These bastards would rather drown their victims than face justice.
“How long do we have to get these women out?” I demand.
“Twenty, maybe less. And we’ve got over thirty women to extract, while fightin’ the Cartel and fuckin’ bird assassins.”
I make the call instantly. “Get them movin’. Everyone cover the evac. I’ll stay back with the stragglers, make sure they get out.”
City catches my arm, concern in his eyes. “Pres, keep an eye out. There’s still Cartel and birds in here. Watch your six.”
I clasp his shoulder, looking him dead in the eye. “We get these women out. No matter what, we get them home. Understand me, VP?”
I’m trying to tell him something without saying it outright. Trying to prepare him for what I already know in my gut might happen. But there’s no time, and I shove him toward the others.
The water is rising fast, already up to my thighs as I wade back into the chaos. The screams of terrified women echo off the concrete walls. Some are barely conscious, others are fighting each other in their panic to escape.
I can’t leave them.
I won’t.
This is what I signed up for when I took the president’s patch.
Protect the vulnerable.
Fight for those who can’t fight for themselves.
Lead from the front, not the back.
I find five women huddled in a corner, too terrified to move, the water already at their waists. One of them is praying in Spanish, and another is catatonic.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” I tell them, my voice as gentle as I can make it over the roar of rushing water. “I’m gonna get you out of here, but you gotta trust me. Can you do that?”
They stare at me with hollow eyes, and my heart breaks for what they’ve been through. But I don’t have time for my heart to break right now.
“C’mon, we gotta move.Now.”
I get them moving, driving them forward through the flood, one hand outstretched to guide them, the other waving them ahead. My boots crash through the rising tide, and finally I see City ahead at the ladder.
“City, grab ‘em! Get ‘em out!” I shout.
Almost there.
