Page 43 of Mayflower

As soon as he hangs up, he nods to Artiom. “V Tsentr. Naberi Aziku. Pust’ gatovit kamandu.” To the Center, and tell Azik to get the team ready.

“I’m coming with you!” I say.

“Of course, you are coming with me.” He doesn’t look at me as he stomps to the door and dials someone on his phone, then speaks in Russian, telling the guy to locate the phone number of one of his men in Port Mrei.

In seconds, the entire house is on their feet.

And my heart is jumping out of my chest as we ride to the Center two minutes later.

At the Center, everyone is on edge. IT guys and Mr. Ortiz have their eyes on the surveillance screens on the wall, all of them lit up. Some show the camera feeds along the Ayana perimeter. Others show aerial footage—the IT team must’ve already sent drones to Port Mrei.

The Commander, the man in charge of special operations, is here too. He is on the radio, giving orders to assemble several soldier units and be ready to move out.

Archer and Bishop are by my father’s side as soon as we walk in. Dad’s IT guy gives the satellite phones coordinates. They are passed on to the Ayana IT team. Right away, one of the screens on the wall lights up with a live map of Port Mrei and a blinking green dot on it—the satellite phone.

“They are by the Venus Den,” Bishop says.

“Locate the closest breach point.”

“Map out the best route to approach.”

“Give me half a minute,” an older IT guy says. He has multiple computers at his desk. Must be the cyber operations specialist.

Everyone starts talking at once, but my eyes dart to a different screen that’s a live arial view of a Port Mrei street. It’s hard to make out anything on a black-and-white night-vision feed. There are dozens of dark figures. The drone is closing in, and I see white flares. There’s shooting. My nerves are on edge. One of the little dark figures there is Raven. I say, “Please, please, please,” in my mind over and over again, hoping he gets out of there safe.

Screens are everywhere showing the GPS tracker, multiple drone footages, the cams from all around Ayana, the AI logistics mapping out the best possible route.

My ears catch everything.

“Twenty men of the special forces unit. Ready in ten.”

“Drone is down. Another one is down.”

“There is a shootout.”

“There are children. Be careful. Four, yes.”

One of the night-vision screens shows people and trucks on a wide street. Suddenly an explosion turns the screen black.

“A bomb went off.”

“Number 25 is down. Send more drones! Get them to follow the group!”

But all I do is stare between two screens—the next aerial drone footage that is back on and the green blinking dot on another screen. My heart wildly thuds against my chest. Blood pounds between my ears. My eyes well up with tears because that dot is Raven. He is alive. He is moving. And though he is in danger, he is right there. Breathing. And he is coming back. He is coming back.

My lips move in the silent mantra when I feel a hand on my back and snap my head at the person.

Dad. His eyes study my reaction. “Vsio sdelaem, rebionak” He winks at me. “Vsio budet chiki-briki” We’ll get it done, child. It will be tip top.

His eyes shift to the main screen as he crosses his arms in front of his chest like there is no worry in the world, like he’s playing a video game. And his cocky voice is back when he says, “Tsar’ skazal—tsar’ sdelal.” Tsar said, and Tsar got it done.

Fucking Dad!

I want to scream. I would’ve been annoyed by his cockiness if I wasn’t watching Raven’s life depend on what happens next.

Archer’s phone rings again. He raises his hand in the air and snaps his fingers.

“Quiet!” he shouts.

---