Page 102 of Rescuing Sophia

“Sophia, we need to—” I move to pull her back, acutely aware that we’re exposed, vulnerable.

She whirls on me, eyes blazing with a fury born of fear and desperation. “I’m not leaving without him. I won’t?—”

Suddenly, Gabe’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “Movement. Back stairwell.”

We all turn, weapons raised, to see a woman hurrying down a hidden staircase. In her arms is a small boy, his face buried in her shoulder, and behind her, a little girl follows, eyes wide with fear.

Sophia’s reaction is instantaneous, primal. “Luke!” The name tears from her throat, a sound of pure emotion that seems to freeze time itself.

She breaks free from my grip with a strength born of desperation, launching herself toward the stairs. The woman turns, startled, her eyes widening in shock and confusion as she takes in our armed group.

“Who-who are they?” she stammers, clutching the boy tighter.

Beside me, Ethan goes rigid, his eyes widening in shock.

But there’s no time for explanations. Hearing his mother’s voice, Luke lifts his head, his small face lighting up with recognition and hope.

“Mommy!” he cries out, his voice piercing the tension like a ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

What happens next seems to unfold in slow motion. Sophia reaches for her son, her arms outstretched, tears streaming down her face. The woman, seeing the raw emotion in Sophia’s eyes, hesitates for just a moment before setting Luke down.

The little boy flies into Sophia’s arms as if propelled by an unseen force. They collide in a tangle of limbs and tears, Sophia clutching Luke to her chest as if she’ll never let go again. Her voice, choked with emotion, fills the air as she murmurs reassurances to her son, each word a balm to years of separation and fear.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

For a moment, the world seems to stand still. The gunfire outside fades away, the danger momentarily forgotten in the face of this raw, primal reunion. My eyes sting, and the lump in my throat makes it hard to swallow.

But the moment of peace is short-lived. I glance at Ethan, expecting to see relief, but instead, I’m struck by the intensity of hisgaze as he stares at the woman. His face is a mask of shock and disbelief as if he’s seen a ghost.

His voice is low and tight as he speaks into his comm. “Command, this is Charlie Lead. I need an immediate ID check. The woman with the boy….”

The words trail off, lost in the chaos of the moment. But as I look between Ethan and the mysterious woman, I can’t shake the feeling that our mission has just become even more complicated.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Blake

The tender reunionbetween Sophia and Luke is shattered in an instant. The sharp crack of gunfire splits the air, and time seems to slow. I react on pure instinct, my body moving before my mind can process what’s happening.

“Get down!” I roar, launching myself at Sophia and Luke. We hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs. Bullets whiz overhead, so close I can feel their heat. The acrid smell of gun powder fills the air, mixing with the metallic tang of fear.

RUFI-2 engages the guard with cold efficiency; its mechanical movements are deadly accurate despite the chaos around us. The guard falls, but I know it’s just the beginning.

“Charlie team, this is Bravo Lead.” Brady’s voice crackles over the comms, tight with urgency. “We’ve got multiple tangos converging on your position. You need to exfil now.”

Ethan snaps back to attention, his eyes clearing of the daze that settled over him at the sight of the unknown woman.

“Copy that,” he responds, his voice sharp with renewed focus. “Charlie team, move out. Command, we’ve got four to extract. Back to the cliff face.”

We form a protective circle around our charges: Sophia clutchingLuke to her chest, the boy’s face buried in her neck, the mystery woman, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and determination, and the little girl, clinging to the woman’s hand as if it’s a lifeline.

Our progress is agonizingly slow. Every step feels like a mile, and each corner is a potential death trap. Malfor’s men seem to materialize from the very walls, their gunfire a constant, deafening roar.

We’re pinned down in a wide corridor, caught in a vicious crossfire. Bullets chip away at our cover, showering us with debris. The air is thick with smoke and the desperate cries of our team trying to coordinate over the chaos.

“We’re not going to make it like this,” Gabe shouts, his voice strained as he returns fire.

Just as hopelessness threatens to overtake us, the world explodes. The ceiling behind us erupts in a shower of concrete and steel. Through the newly created hole, in drops Bravo team, their exosuits gleaming despite the dust and debris.

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