Page 122 of The Wrecked One

46

MYA

Comms were a total bust. All signals had been killed, and the power was out on the island. The only reason I could still make out their location from where we were anchored was because of the fires and explosions lighting up the dark night sky in the distance. “Will you be able to get comms back up and running?”

“Hopefully,” Gwen promised as Jessica and Wyatt joined us inside the cabin.

The two SEALs from Charlie Team were on the deck behind sniper rifles as our overwatch guardians, but it wasn’t us I was worried about. We were far away from the action.

I set a hand to my stomach, trying not to vomit as I relived the moments before we’d escaped again, willing myself to not assume the worst-case scenario after everything we’d already gone through.

“What if they didn’t escape?” And there it was. The fear taking over regardless.

Wyatt’s distraction plan with the Zodiacs had helped us get to the water to exfil, but not even a second after gearing up, the drone went up in a fireball and fell from the sky. A minute after that, the building where the fight had taken place blew up.

Wyatt had hoisted me up in the air to stop me from taking off as I’d cried and kicked in his arms, trying to get free to go to Oliver, terrified he was still inside the building. “You have to believe they made it out. He wants you off this island, Mya. I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t scream or we’d give up our positions, so I’d quietly sobbed in his arms while he dragged me to the water.

“I’m staying behind. I have to make sure he got out,” Sam had announced, chucking his gear, and he’d met my eyes as I went limp in Wyatt’s arms. “I’m not leaving here without my son.”

I blinked back tears as I tried to smother the memories of that nightmare. I’d been pulled away from Oliver; it was Thailand all over again.

“They’ll be okay, but I’m going to head back over.” Wyatt’s eyes flicked to his daughter, probably concerned about leaving her, but he had to check on the teams and see why my parents hadn’t arrived yet.

“What about their QRF?” I asked, knowing Wyatt had been up top to make a call to his father-in-law, the Secretary of Defense.

“The fighter jets have been scrambled. Prepared for orders.”

By taking down the drone, the Sorens forced our hand, and we had no choice but to skip to the emergency plan—relying on the U.S. military to intervene with air support. American fighter pilots at Al Dhafra Air Base were located just south of Abu Dhabi, and the President, in conjunction with the UAE, now had people on standby to intervene.

The plan had always been to get at least one Soren and my parents off the island for questioning, but we’d hoped not to involve the military.

Given the Emiratis would eventually notice the “fireworks,” POTUS had provided the government a heads-up about the operation on the island.

We didn’t want them showing up and accidentally killing Team Good Guy. But the President had also promised our military would stay out of the fight unless absolutely necessary.

And now it was. There would be a lot of backdoor diplomacy on his part to make up for our military incinerating their land. At least it was man-made and uninhabited land, but I didn’t care what POTUS had to do, so long as our people all made it off that island alive.

“Don’t worry, the Air Force can defend the sky until our people complete the mission.” Jessica sat next to Gwen on the couch with her laptop. “Don’t worry.” She was calm, cool, and collected, like how I wished I could be. She’d been doing “this” much longer than I had, and from what I knew, far deeper in the trenches than I’d ever been.

I was back to pacing again, fixating on the fact I still didn’t know if Oliver, Mason, and Jesse had cleared the building before it exploded.

“If the Sorens want to play with fire, that’s what they’ll get.” Wyatt went over to Gwen, kissing the top of her head as she continued to work. Standing tall, he added, “It’s their funeral for taking out that drone, which was the only thing keeping this a semi-fair fight for them. Our guys will know we have the skies covered now. If they can somehow get a signal out as to which areas to strike, we?—”

“Why, though?” I sputtered, my more rational investigative journalist brain stalling my anxiety and my pacing. “Why would the Sorens do this knowing Gray’s identity and who his father is? They didn’t get this far in life because they’re idiots. They had to know we’d have the backing of the U.S. military if they didn’t play by the rules. They’d know we wouldn’t resort to an air strike unless we had to, because it draws the kind of attention our government hates, but . . .”

“The Collective,” Jessica said steadily, connecting the dots I’d been working on myself. She focused on her screen, and Gwen stopped typing, keying in on our conversation. “I think you’re right. The Sorens didn’t do this. It’d make sense that given their position within the organization, The Collective would plant someone close to the Sorens to keep an eye on them. Probably a few people.”

“Right.” I rubbed my palms up and down the sleeves of my clean shirt, working to get rid of the tension in my biceps. Jessica had thought of everything, including a clean change of clothes for Gwen and me. “They always have countermeasures or contingencies for everything. It’s how they’ve survived for so long. Eating their own when necessary.”

“How very cannibalistic of the wankers,” Gwen mumbled, already back to work. “Probably that dick, then, right? Pecker?”

“Probably,” I confirmed. “Otherwise, if it was someone else, The Collective would’ve intervened before now. They more than likely only found out when the Sorens pulled Pecker in for help.”

“Pecker is The Collective’s safety net, then. Their bench player in case the Sorens need to be taken out themselves. But I’m betting the Sorens have no clue he’s even aware their organization exists.” Wyatt held his chin, thinking this through with us. “Given the Sorens’ lives are at stake from both sides of the aisle, the Sorens wouldn’t risk going to just anyone for help with this problem.”

I plopped down on the couch, my mind racing as it came together. “I doubt Raymond Pecker is on the island, then. Probably deferred to The Collective once we were all gathered tonight.” Kill two birds with one stone. I shuddered at the thought. I’d never look at birds the same again. “Or in this case, three. Take out my parents, too,” I finished my thoughts out loud, looking out the cabin window at the chaos still lighting up the night sky across the water. My stomach dropped, and another horrible idea propelled me to my feet. “The Collective is going to try and blow everyone there up, aren’t they?”

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