Page 44 of Skull

“There,” she whispered, pointing to a dirt path leading to an open field. The extraction point was beyond that field, a safe distance from the labyrinth of the cartel stronghold. “Run straight across. Don’t stop.”

The wife nodded, fear and relief warring on her features. The children clutched at her, eyes wide, tiny shoulders shaking. Despite the dryness in Walker’s throat, she bent down to meet their gazes. “You’ll be okay,” she said, trying to project certainty. “Bones will go with you.”

At the sound of his name, Bones pivoted his head to look at her. The Malinois’s gaze flicked back in the direction they’d fled from, ears standing at attention. He let out a frustrated, low whine. Even he could tell something was wrong. He wanted his handler. He wanted Skull.

Walker swallowed hard. “Bones, go with them,” she ordered, voice pitched low but firm. “Guard them.” For a moment, the dog hesitated, glancing between her and the path, nose raised to catch any sign of Skull. “Go,” she repeated, more fiercely this time. “I’ll get him. I’ll bring him back. Go.”

Bones huffed, then turned and trotted after the family, placing himself protectively at the children’s sides. The mother ushered them forward, and they sprinted out onto the path, guided by flickering beams of headlights that promised safety. Walker rose, heart pounding, and toggled her comm.

“Hummingbird to Iceman,” she said, breath ragged. “I have the full package, and its en route to exfil. They’ll need cover and immediate transport.” She paused. Her eyes were drawn back to the labyrinth behind her. “Skull stayed back to cover us. He’s—” She broke off, forcing a steadiness into her voice. “Permission to go back for him.”

Through the crackle of the radio, she heard a burst of chatter—questions, curses. “Hold your position,” Iceman said, his tone steely, laced with an undercurrent of concern. “Wait for backup. We’re coming.”

She grit her teeth, pressed her comm again. The adrenaline that had carried her this far still thrummed in her veins, making her fingers itch to reach for her weapon and race back into danger. This was unacceptable. It went against every fiber of her being. But that was precisely what Iceman was telling her to do.

“Stand down, Hummingbird,” he barked. “We’re on our way. You will hold position until we get there with enough force to re-enter. Understood?”

She shook her head, her body rigid with tension. Beneath her normally composed exterior, a storm raged, lashing her with a tempest of worry, guilt, and fierce protectiveness. “He doesn’t have time,” she argued, her voice uncharacteristically sharp. “Skull is still in there, possibly wounded. Possibly worse. If I wait for you, we might lose him for good.”

“That’s an order,” he snapped. “You rush in on your own, you risk your life and compromise the entire mission.”

She almost laughed at the notion of risk. She had been trained to thrive on it. She was Uncle Sam’s silent blade, the CIA’s covert instrument for missions no one else could touch. Danger was her everyday reality. Normally, she would analyze a situation logically, weighing pros and cons with steady calm. But this time, her heart battered those calculations aside. Skull needed her now. There was no contest. He was the reason her mind raced, her pulse pounding.

Her rebellion grew. No, she was trained for this, born for this exact type of extraction. “You all don’t understand who we are,” she said tersely, her voice vibrating with confidence. “I live in the shadows, kill in the shadows. They don’t stand a chance against me. This ismyplayground. I’m going back for him.Fuckyour orders. I’m an independent operative, and I’m going to make this decision on my own. I won’t lose him.”

She tried to keep her tone even, but emotion crackled underneath. She remembered the night they’d first worked together, seeing the flash of determination in his eyes, the unwavering loyalty. She thought of his dark looks, the way he’d made love to her, the way he reassured her when she second-guessed herself. He had just saved her life, and she was going to save his. No more arguments.

“I understand the risks,” she continued, her voice low and shaking with barely contained anger. “But if I don’t go, he dies. And I can’t—” Her breath caught. “I won’t live with that. He’s the only reason Blade’s wife and children are safe right now. He stayed behind to protect them. He gave us time to get them out.”

Her voice trembled with an intensity that startled even her. For all her training in emotional detachment, her protectiveness blazed like a bonfire. There was more to it than duty or a promise to rescue a comrade. She could barely admit it to herself, but the truth was undeniable. That crazy brave, hard as nails warrior mattered to her in a way she’d never expected anyone to matter.

A tense silence fell.

Walker seized on the dead air as Iceman’s capitulation. “Get here as fast as you can,” she said, finality sharpening her tone.

She left her rifle behind. She wouldn’t need it. She fully intended to rely on her stealth and blades. They would be all she’d need. Without waiting for another protest, she started jogging toward the ruined alleys.

Her heart pounded in her ears, fear for Skull mingling with furious determination. She would reclaim him from the jaws of the cartel or die trying. They could reprimand her, her boss could yell at her, but none of that mattered. She would not stand by while Skull suffered a fate she had the power to prevent.

Breathing ragged, Walker plunged into the darkness once more, the memory of Skull’s confident grin pushing her on. She doubled back into the maze of alleys. Her feet seemed to move on their own, carrying her into the danger she’d just escaped.

She had always valued reason above all else. Caution, planning, and data-driven decisions were her way of life, her hallmark. But ever since she had started working alongside Skull, she’d felt something shift. He was fierce and unyielding, yes, but he also carried a certain loyal tenderness beneath his tough exterior. She couldn’t bear the thought that he might be suffering or worse because she’d had no choice in leaving him behind.

She wasn’t sure when it happened or how, but the simple truth was that Skull had her heart. The same mind that methodically weighed every angle was now screaming at her to ignore all the odds, all the risks. She couldn’t lose him. Her life, her carefully guarded, self-contained existence would never be the same if he was gone.

Adrenaline spiked as she retraced her steps through the broken alleys, avoiding the route they’d first taken. She slipped along crooked edges of walls, picking her way around rusted metal, ignoring the sharp tang of blood or the memory of gunfire echoing in her ears. Passing the spot where they’d initially been cornered, she spotted signs of struggle, a scuff mark on the ground, a dark stain that made her stomach twist.

Clutching her weapon close, Walker pressed on, senses on high alert. The fear that had always been buried under her curiosity and logic simmered to the surface. Iceman was on the way, and she kept moving, letting her own heart’s pounding serve as the beacon guiding her through the gloom.

In that moment, she realized this was a point of no return. Even if she found him and they made it out alive, nothing would be as it was before. She was no longer the detached observer content to keep a safe distance from everyone around her. She wanted Skull, desperately, with a force she hadn’t allowed herself to feel until now.

Ahead, dim light leaked from the ruins of an old warehouse. Walker pressed her back against the cold concrete, steadying her breath as the sounds of the cartel’s jeering echoed from inside the half-ruined warehouse. Darkness clung to every corner, the perfect canvas for what she did best. Her night vision goggles brought the green-tinted world into sharp clarity. The flicker of a distant lantern, the shape of a guard pacing near a broken window, the rusted barrels that could serve as cover, everything leapt into crisp detail, ripe for the assault she was about to launch. She heard voices, angry Spanish mixed with pained, incoherent sounds. Her hands tightened on her weapon, pulses of anxiety and fury streaming through her veins.

Skull was somewhere inside. And she’d give everything to get him out.

Her heart hammered with the unrelenting knowledge that every second counted. She could only hope Skull was still alive behind those walls, defiant and refusing to surrender an inch of information. Her vow buried deep in her heart. She wasn’t leaving here without him.

This washerdomain. She’d been forged by countless missions in the darkest corners of the world, trained to excel where no one else could, to move unseen, to strike fast, to kill quietly if necessary. She was the invisible solution to problems most people never even knew existed. If the American government needed a ghost, she was it.

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