Page 24 of Captivating Nash

They moved quickly, Nash covering the entrance while Deanna approached one of the terminals. Her fingers danced over the keyboard, pulling up files faster than Nash could follow. He glanced over his shoulder, every nerve on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Got it,” Deanna whispered, her voice filled with a mix of shock and horror. “These files… Nash, they’re using advanced marine technology for something way bigger than we thought. They’ve developed submersible drones, capable of bypassing military defense systems undetected.”

Nash frowned, moving closer to the screen as Deanna pulled up schematics. The files detailed the construction of sleek, unmanned underwater vehicles—drones designed to evade sonar and patrol critical areas undetected. But that wasn’t all. The next set of files revealed something worse.

“They’re planning to weaponize them,” Deanna continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “These drones can deliver high-yield explosives… under the radar. No one would see it coming until it was too late.”

Nash’s blood ran cold. This wasn’t just another arms deal. This was something far more dangerous. If these drones were deployed, they could cripple naval fleets and attack coastal cities without warning. The implications were global. And Hartley was involved.

Before Nash could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps broke through the silence. His instincts flared instantly. “We’ve got company,” he muttered, reaching for his knife. “Get those files copied and be ready to move.”

Deanna nodded, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she downloaded the info onto a flash drive. Nash moved toward the door, his body tense, every muscle coiled. The footsteps grew louder, more deliberate, echoing down the hallway. Nash’s grip on his knife tightened. There was no time to escape quietly now. They were going to have to fight their way out.

The door swung open, and in an instant, Nash was on the move. One of Fatima’s mercenaries barreled through, his weapon raised. Nash ducked low, striking fast. His knife flashed in the low light, catching the man off guard as they collided, the force of the impact sending them both crashing into the nearby wall.

The mercenary was strong, his movements brutal and efficient, but Nash’s training took over, muscle memory from years as a SEAL guiding him as they grappled. The man made a grab for a gun, aiming for Nash’s head, but Nash dodged, driving his elbow into the man’s throat with lethal precision. The mercenary staggered but recovered quickly, countering with a vicious punch that sent pain shooting through Nash’s ribs.

The room blurred for a second, and suddenly, Nash was back there—back in the jungle on his last mission, his team under fire, his brothers bleeding around him as everything went wrong. He could smell the smoke, feel the heat, hear the cries of his fallen teammates.

But this time, he wasn’t going to lose his teammate—Deanna.

Nash roared, slamming the mercenary to the ground. The man struggled, his hands clawing at Nash’s arm, but Nash didn’t hesitate. With one brutal motion, he drove the knife into the man’s chest, the blade sinking deep. The mercenary gasped, his body shuddering before going limp beneath Nash’s weight.

For a moment, all Nash could hear was his own ragged breathing, the memories of the past crashing over him like waves. But this wasn’t the jungle. This wasn’t his team. He was here, in the present, and he’d done what he had to do.

He stood, wiping the blood from his knife, his hands trembling slightly as he turned back to Deanna. Her face was pale, but her eyes were clear.

“I got everything,” she whispered, her voice shaking slightly. “Let’s go.”

Nash nodded, grabbing her hand and pulling her through the door. They moved fast, weaving through the facility as alarms began to blare, signaling that their intrusion had been detected. The hallway echoed with the sounds of approaching reinforcements, but Nash led them down an alternate route, slipping through a side exit and into the jungle.

They ran, the underbrush whipping against their legs as they made their way back to the beach. Nash’s mind raced, the images of those files burned into his brain. They had uncovered something catastrophic—something that would have global repercussions if it fell into the wrong hands.

The beach came into view, and Nash’s eyes locked onto a Zodiac moored nearby. A gift from their enemies. Perfect.

“Get in and stay low,” Nash barked, his breath coming fast as they sprinted across the sand. He jumped into the Zodiac, grabbing the engine’s cord and yanking it to life. The small boat sputtered before roaring into action, the propeller kicking up a spray of saltwater as they sped out to sea.

The moment they hit open water, Nash’s pulse began to slow. The island grew smaller behind them, the sounds of pursuit fading into the distance. The Zodiac bounced over the waves, the sharp slap of water against the hull steadying his nerves.

Deanna sat beside him, her hair whipping in the wind, her face damp with the spray of the sea. For the first time since they’d fled the facility, she seemed to relax, the tension easing from her body as they sped across the open water. The ocean stretched out endlessly before them, the horizon a soft blur of blue and gray.

Nash glanced over at her, watching as the saltwater spray hit her face, bringing a flicker of something back to her eyes. She seemed to come alive again, the sharpness returning to her gaze as she stared out at the open sea. There was a quiet strength in her now, a resilience that had been tempered by the danger they had faced.

She caught him looking and gave him a small smile, a hint of the woman he had first met shining through the exhaustion. “We’re not dead yet,” she said, her voice lighter than before.

Nash let out a rough laugh, the tension finally easing from his chest. “Not yet. Let’s keep it that way.”

The wind whipped around them as the Zodiac bounded over the waves, the water rushing beneath them in a constant, soothing rhythm. They weren’t safe yet, but for now, they had a reprieve. For now, they were free.

And as Nash steered the boat toward a distant port, he couldn’t help but feel that they had crossed a line—one that would change everything.

Chapter Ten

Deanna

The roar of the Zodiac’s engine faded into the rhythmic slap of waves against the hull, but the sound couldn’t drown out the turmoil inside Deanna. She sat near the bow, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon, but her thoughts were spinning, churning like the waters beneath them. The salt spray stung her face, the cool wind whipping her hair back, but none of it could touch the storm inside her.

Hartley. Professor Hartley.

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