We slow the bikes just outside the perimeter, where we have a clear vantage point overlooking the opening of the supply tunnel. The night is dark save for the fog lights from the guard towers sweeping over the landscape, but we’re well hidden in the brush. I clock the two guards we were expecting. One is stationary at the edge of the tunnel, the other making his way along the perimeter, about a hundred meters away.
Declan addresses me telepathically.“Wait for my signal.”
I track the walking soldier through my rifle scope. My breathing is even, hands steady as I hold my position. Several seconds tick by before I hear Declan again.
“Take ’em out.”
His instincts are impeccable. The perimeter guard is nearly on top of us. I fire without hesitation, and he goes down with a thud. The soldier at the tunnel only manages to turn his head a fraction of an inch before my bullet finds its mark between his eyes.
“Nice,” Neema says grudgingly.
The three of us stay rooted on our bikes, watching the tunnel to see if anyone rushes out of it to check on their fallen comrades. But the shadowy entrance remains quiet and still.
You need to warn Cross.
The urgent voice in my head is getting louder, screaming at me, but it’s not time yet. Timing is fucking everything.
Saint’s low voice suddenly slices over the feed. “Light it up, Lu.”
The distant roar of an explosion reverberates in the distance, and the sky lights up in a burst of orange for a split second before everything goes dark again. The faint smell of smoke carries in the wind, filling my nostrils, and then I hear another sharp blast and catch a quick glimpse of plumes billowing upward.
“Move,” I hear Saint command, and I know their supply truck is now tearing toward that perimeter. A second later, he barks orders at us. “Decoy team, go.”
As the three of us speed forward on our bikes, I finally allow myself to link with Cross. I’m not surprised when his angry growl instantly echoes in my head.
“Was that you?”
“Yes,”I confirm as I squeeze the throttle harder.“We’re extracting the slaves.”
“Goddamn it, Dove.”
“We weren’t just going to let them die.”
“I told you I would handle it.”
“Well, we’re handling it, so I’ll take any support you can offer.”
There’s a beat.
Then,“I’ve got you. Always. You know that.”
I love him so fucking much.
As gunfire erupts in the distance, we drive directly into the supply tunnel. The schematics I studied earlier revealed a complex network of tunnels and shafts, but we’re not going all the way down to the mine. The tunnel we’re in runs one level above the mine shaft.
The weak glare of fluorescent bulbs guides our path through the wide passageway, and the air smells like damp earth and concrete.
“Down here,” Declan says over his shoulder.
We reach the first section, which according to the map I memorized is a key structural point in the tunnel. Declan and Neema slide off their bikes and quickly unload their packs. I remain on guard, my rifle sweeping the shadows, ensuring we have no unexpected visitors.
The two of them work fast, expertly attaching charges to concrete, each charge lighting green when it’s activated. Then they’re back on their bikes and we’re speeding to the next designated section.
“Charges set,” Declan reports to Saint not even a minute later as Neema snaps her final charge onto a stone pillar. “Ten minutes till detonation.”
“Get to the pickup,” is Saint’s response. He sounds slightly distracted, and I can only imagine what kind of chaos the attack team is dealing with right now.
“Let’s move,” Declan says.
