Page 23 of Rescuing Ember

“I want you to pair up with Jon.”

I can’t help but marvel at the package of contradictions that is Charlene Kendricks. To the uninitiated, she’s a blonde bombshell with curves that could stop traffic. I’ve seen how people’s eyes slide over her, assuming the double D’s mean there’s nothing going on between her ears.

If they only knew.

Behind that Barbie doll exterior is one of the sharpest tactical minds I’ve ever encountered. I’ve seen Charlie take down men twice her size without breaking a sweat. Her movements are a deadly ballet of precision and power. In the field, her situational awareness is unparalleled. She spots details others miss and calculates risks and outcomes faster than our AI.

A woman in a man’s world, Charlie has had to work twice as hard to prove herself. And damn, has she ever. She doesn’t hold her own—she sets the damn bar.

“Something going on I should know about?” I keep my voice neutral.

Charlie’s eyes harden, a flash of the steel that’s made her one of our best. “Nothing that’ll affect the mission. Just think we need a change-up this time.”

I study her face, seeing past her beauty to the determined warrior beneath. This isn’t a request born of weakness but a tactical necessity. Charlie doesn’t make calls like this lightly.

“Alright.” I nod, decision made. “I’ll pair with Jon. But Charlie? Whatever’s going on with you three, sort it out.”

“Copy that.” A ghost of her usual smirk flickers across her face. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

As she walks away, shoulders set with renewed purpose, I’m reminded again why Charlie’s such a vital part of this team. She’s beauty and brains wrapped in a destructive layer of lethal skill—anyone who underestimates her barely lives long enough to regret it.

I catch Jon’s eye across the room, jerking my head in a ‘come here’ motion. Time to reshuffle the deck. We’ve trained for this and practiced every possible team configuration. With Charlie’s tactical genius and our collective skills, whatever this mission throws at us, we’re ready.

I turn back to my gear, but my mind’s elsewhere. On Ember, trapped in that hellhole. On Aria, torn from a life of privilege into a nightmare. On the team, with a potential fracture in our midst.

“Listen up, people.” Jenny’s strong and sure voice rings out. The team gathers, a well-oiled machine despite the cracks. Her fierce and unwavering gaze meet each of ours.

“Two young women are counting on us. Aria Holbrook and Ember Winters. They’re scared, they’re alone, and we are their only hope. So whatever’s waiting for us in that warehouse, whatever traps or ambushes they’ve got planned, we push through. We do not stop. We do not falter. Because failure is not an option.”

The room falls silent, hanging on her every word. This is why she’s our leader and why we’ll follow her into hell itself.

A ripple of determination flows through the team. Spines straighten, jaws set. This is what we live and die for.

But not tonight.

No one’s dying tonight.

“Now, one last thing.” Jenny’s voice softens just a fraction. “I know there’s been talk about Holbrook. Put it out of your minds. We go in as a team. We come out as a team. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” we respond in unison. The doubt’s still lurking beneath the surface, but at least we’re focused on the mission.

“Comms check.” Mitzy’s voice crackles through our earpieces, all business. “Sound off.”

We confirm our links one by one, a digital lifeline connecting us all. Familiar voices crackle through the static—Mac’s rumble, Charlie’s lilt, Brett’s clipped tones. A chorus of readiness.

“Rufi units online and synced,” Mitzy adds. “Bumblebee drones prepped and ready for deployment.”

“Vehicles are hot,” Mac reports, his voice gruff but steady. “Ready when you are.”

We move as one toward the exit, a well-choreographed dance of lethal intent. The weight of our gear, the hum of adrenaline, the taste of metal, and anticipation on our tongues—this is it.

There is no turning back now.

I fall into step beside Jenny, matching her stride.

“Any concerns?”

She doesn’t break a step. “Standard op. High-profile target. We’ve done this dance before. You switched up your team?”

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