Drew was already moving.“What’s the play?”
Before Kael could answer, the night erupted.Distant shouts.The heavy rhythm of boots pounding gravel.A crack of suppressed gunfire split the silence, too close, too deliberate.
“Shit,” Kael muttered.“We’re under attack.”
The words were unnecessary.Drew was already yanking on pants, holstering his sidearm, strapping a blade to his thigh.Every motion was automatic, muscle memory refined by years of surviving ambushes.He tossed Kael his weapon, loaded his own, and rolled his shoulders to shake off the last remnants of rest.The air smelled of oil, sea salt, and danger.
“Too late for the new security plan,” Drew drawled.
Kael shot him a quick grin—grim but genuine.“Then we improvise.”
He grabbed the comms kit, snapping it open with practiced precision.“Torch, Breaker, Reef, Mano—call signs active.Aunty’s at the main house.I want eyes on her now.”
Luka’s voice cut through.“Drones in the air.Multiple tangos, Surge.North side’s crawling.They move like the military—tight and trained.”
“Copy that,” Kael said.“You and Reef take high ground.Torch, Breaker—south and east.Quick, quiet, deadly.”
The faintest smirk tugged at Drew’s mouth.God, he loved it when Kael talked like that.It meant they were in motion again—predators, not prey.
Before they could step outside, a loudspeaker cracked through the humid air.“Kael Makani!Drew Hawkins!We have your woman—Aunty Leilani.Step out now, or she dies.”
The statement froze everything.Drew saw Kael’s eyes darken, rage and fear warring behind that calm exterior.
“Kael,” Drew said softly.“Breathe.”
Kael inhaled through his nose, the tremor gone by the exhale.“We move.”He tossed Drew an earpiece.“A tech gift from the Pathfinders, open channel.”
“Got it.”Drew fit it snugly behind his ear and checked his weapon.He gave Kael a small nod.“On your six.”
They slipped into the night.
The humidity was suffocating, wrapping them in a sheen of sweat as soon as they cleared the camper.The compound was half-hidden beneath the moonlight, shadows deep and liquid.Somewhere toward the cliffs, a motor rumbled low.Drew’s boots barely scuffed the gravel.The air thrummed with tension, filled with the metallic tang of gun oil and the faint brine of the sea.
Kael stopped near the garage, signaling for silence.From the comm came Torch’s voice—cocky as ever.“Got eyes on three by the back of the garage.They’re moving slow, like they think we don’t see ‘em.”
“Don’t get cute,” Kael warned.
“Too late.”Torch’s chuckle was pure sin.
Drew’s hand brushed Kael’s shoulder—reassurance, steady and sure.It was a move that said, relax, we’ve done this before.
Then the night blew apart.
Gunfire shattered the quiet.Bullets whined off metal.Kael grabbed Drew and pulled him down behind a truck, their shoulders colliding hard enough to bruise.Sparks sprayed across the gravel as rounds pinged off the hood.
“North perimeter engaged,”Reef ‘s voice came harsh over comms, breathless but composed.
Kael’s response was automatic.“Torch, suppress the north flank.Reef, circle left.Breaker feed visuals to all channels.”
“Copy that,”Breaker replied, fingers no doubt flying across his screens.“Six visible, maybe more inside the west fence.”
Drew leaned out, sighting along his barrel.A shadow moved, and he fired once—center mass.The figure dropped.Another darted behind a shipping crate, but Kael was faster.His return shot cracked clean and final.
“Nice shot.”Drew asked.
Kael tipped his head to the side.“Why thank you.”
Another volley of gunfire erupted.Torch’s explosion followed seconds later, ripping through the tree line to the east.The shockwave hit like a physical thing, heat and dust rolling over them.
