Page 26 of His Lost Mate

Phoebe peeked around the tree, her eyes sighting the shadowed forms moving through the trees. They were organized, deliberate, and terrifyingly efficient. “They’re boxing us in,” she whispered, panic creeping into her tone.

Jonah’s hand came up, his fingers brushing against her arm as he steadied her. “Stay close to me,” he said firmly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

His calm authority grounded her, but it didn’t dull the fear gnawing at the edges of her resolve. She nodded, her breath hitching as Jonah moved slightly, his sharp gaze tracking their pursuers with the precision of a predator.

A voice called out from the shadows, sharp and commanding. “You can’t run forever! Give us the flight computer, and we’ll let you walk away.”

Phoebe stiffened, her fingers tightening around the knife. Jonah’s lips curled into a snarl, his entire body radiating tension. “They’re lying,” he said, his voice low and edged with anger. “They won’t leave witnesses… any witnesses.”

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay focused. “What’s the plan?”

Jonah tilted his head, the dim light gleaming in his eyes. “We make them come to us,” he said. “Then we take them down.”

Phoebe’s heart pounded as she nodded. “Okay.”

They waited, the air thick with tension as the assailants moved closer. Jonah crouched low, his muscles coiled and ready to spring. Phoebe stayed at his side, her breath shallow as she braced herself for the inevitable.

It came quickly.

The first attacker lunged out of the shadows, his weapon raised. Jonah moved like lightning, grabbing the man’s arm and twisting it with brutal efficiency. The crack of bone echoed through the trees, followed by a pained shout as the man crumpled.

“Next!” Jonah growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

Two more assailants charged, their movements fast but predictable. Phoebe ducked as one swung a blade at her, the whoosh of air too close for comfort. She thrust her knife forward, catching the man in the side. He stumbled back, cursing as Jonah dispatched the second attacker with a single devastating blow.

But there were too many.

Gunfire erupted, the deafening crack splitting the air as Jonah shoved Phoebe behind a tree. “Stay down!” he barked, his body shielding hers as splinters flew from the trunk.

Phoebe’s mind raced, her heart pounding as she clutched the knife. “Jonah?—”

“I said stay down!” he snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As the gunfire paused, another voice cut through the chaos. “That’s enough!”

Phoebe’s blood ran cold as she recognized the voice. She peeked around Jonah, her breath hitching as a tall man stepped into view. His face was shadowed, but she knew the sharp angles of his jaw, the stern set of his shoulders.

“Major Simpson,” she whispered, her stomach twisting.

Jonah glanced at her, his brow furrowing. “You know him?”

Phoebe nodded, her hands trembling. “He was my CO’s executive officer.”

Simpson stepped forward, his cold gaze sweeping over the clearing. “This doesn’t have to end badly,” he said, his tone calm and calculating. “Hand over the flight computer, and we’ll all walk away.”

Phoebe’s lips parted, her mind racing as she pieced together the implications. “It was you,” she said, her voice shaking with a mix of fear and anger. “You sabotaged the plane.”

Simpson’s lips curved into a faint smile. “I was following orders, Lawrence. Orders from someone you know very well.”

Phoebe’s heart sank. “Lt Col Mitchell.”

Simpson inclined his head, his smile widening. “She sends her regards. Well, that’s not true. She never intended for you to walk away, so she sent me to find you.” He looked at Jonah. “You’re Locke’s son, aren’t you.”

“I am. You knew my father?”

“Not really, but like you, he was collateral damage and damn hard to kill.”

Jonah growled low in his throat, his body tensing as he prepared to spring. “We’re not handing over anything,” he said, his voice cold and unyielding.

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