Page 103 of Rescuing Sophia

“Thought you could use a hand.” Brady grins, his rifle already blazing. The tide turns in an instant, Bravo team’s firepower giving us the edge we desperately need.

“Move, move, move!” Ethan bellows, his voice cutting through the chaos.

We make a break for it, the RUFI taking point, their sensors alerting us to threats before we can see them. I’ve got Sophia and Luke, her arms wrapped around her son in a grip that would take an army to break.

Ahead of us, Gabe struggles with the woman. She’s got the girl in a vice-like grip, both stumbling as Gabe tries to urge them forward. The little girl’s face is buried in the woman’s neck, trembling with fear.

“Ma’am, please,” Gabe pleads, his voice strained as he tries to keep them moving while returning fire. “We need to move faster. It’s not safe here.”

The woman shakes her head vehemently, clutching the girl tighter. “I won’t let her go,” she chokes out between ragged breaths.

Suddenly, Sophia’s voice rings out, sharp and clear despite thechaos around us. “Violet. It’s okay. These men are here to rescue us. You can trust them.”

The woman—Violet—hesitates, her eyes darting between Sophia and Gabe. For a moment, I think she might still refuse, but then she gives a shaky nod.

“Zephyr, sweetheart,” Violet says, her voice trembling as she kneels to her daughter’s level. “Mommy will be right behind you. Can you be brave for me?”

The little girl—Zephyr—nods, her eyes wide with fear but trusting in her mother’s words. Ethan steps forward, his movements surprisingly gentle as he takes Zephyr’s hand.

“Zephyr, my name’s Ethan. You’ll be safe with me,” Ethan assures Violet, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it.

Violet reluctantly lets go of her daughter, allowing Gabe to guide her forward. Ethan takes charge of Zephyr, his movements protective yet oddly tender.

The reconfigured group moves faster now, but I can’t help noticing how Ethan keeps glancing back at Violet, a mixture of confusion and recognition in his eyes.

“Keep moving,” I shout, urging the group forward as another burst of gunfire erupts behind us. “We’re almost there.”

The journey back is a hellish gauntlet of gunfire and near-misses. We move as one unit, our formation tight, protecting our charges at all costs. Bravo team works around us, providing suppressive fire as we escort our rescues out.

The exosuits prove their worth, allowing us to move quickly despite the added weight.

A bullet grazes my arm, the sharp pain barely registering through the adrenaline. Luke whimpers, and Sophia’s soothing whispers somehow cut through the chaos.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s got you. We’re going to be okay.”

As we near the cliff face, the power of the storm hits us like a gale-force wind. The wind howls a banshee’s wail that threatens to knock us off our feet. Rain lashes at us, reducing visibility to mere feet. It’s as if nature itself is conspiring against our escape.

“There,” Ethan shouts, pointing toward the cliff edge where we left our descent gear.

Relief floods through me, but it’s short-lived. A fresh wave of Malfor’s men emerges from the compound, their gunfire intensifying.

“Cover us,” I yell, making a dash for the gear with Sophia and Luke.

Bravo team lays down suppressing fire as I work frantically to secure makeshift harnesses around Sophia and Luke. My hands shake with adrenaline and cold, the wet ropes slipping in my grasp.

“You’re doing great,” I tell Sophia, meeting her eyes. The fear there is palpable, but beneath it burns a fierce determination. She nods, tightening her grip on Luke.

I look over to see Ethan working on the little girl’s harness, his movements mechanical and distracted. His gaze keeps drifting to Violet.

“Ethan,” I call out over the howling wind. “You good?”

He starts, as if pulled from deep thought. “Yeah—yeah, I’m fine.” But there’s turmoil in his eyes. Violet bears an uncanny resemblance to someone, but in the chaos of the moment, I can’t place who.

Gabe works on securing Violet, his voice a constant stream of reassurance as he straps her into a harness. She’s calmer now, but her eyes never leave her daughter.

“We need to move. Now,” Walt interrupts, his voice sharp with urgency.

As if to emphasize his point, a bullet pings off the rocks near us, sending fragments flying. The little girl cries out in fear, and the woman’s head snaps up.

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