Page 55 of Skull

The lock clicked, and Walker slowly pushed the door open. The heavy wood groaned on its hinges. Dusty beams of light slanted into the cell, revealing a stained cot against the far wall. Blood-spattered bandages lay scattered on the floor, and the lingering odor of antiseptic cut through the damp stench. An abandoned IV bag drooped from a hook, its tubing dripping one last, pitiful drop onto the cot’s soiled sheets.

A sense of dread coiled in Walker’s stomach. She didn’t want to see what might be in that corner. Yet she forced herself forward, scanning the room with trained efficiency. Her gaze landed on a small metal object beneath a battered wooden chair, something glinting in the meager light. Carefully, she knelt down, reaching underneath. Her heart twisted when she recognized the shape of Leigh’s US attorney badge.

She touched the engraved seal with trembling fingers. If Leigh had left this behind, it meant she was most likely taken elsewhere by force. Or worse. Walker’s eyes burned. She swallowed hard, but the knot lodged in her throat wouldn’t budge.

Strekoza let out a ragged oath, pacing beside her. “This can’t be…” she began, voice cracking. She slammed a gloved fist against the wall, frustration and raw pain seeping through her usually steady facade. Walker squeezed the badge until the edges dug into her palm. It was an agonizing confirmation that they were too late.

For all her ruthless skill, for all the missions she had survived, Walker felt the bitter sting of helplessness. They had come so far, yet the only things left here were fragments of suffering. She clenched her teeth, tears threatening to blur her vision. In that instant, she knew this failure would follow her, haunt her, for a lifetime. And somewhere, in the swirling chaos of her thoughts, she wondered if Skull and the rest of the team were safe, or if their rescue attempt had likewise hit the worst possible end.

With determined care, Walker tucked Leigh’s badge into a pouch at her belt. She wouldn’t leave it in this forsaken place. She and Strekoza exchanged one more pained look, a solemn vow forming between them without a word. This wasn’t over. They’d find Hazard and Leigh or avenge them if they were gone. One way or another, Pincho’s fortress would crumble beneath the weight of their resolve.

She turned, sprinted out of the cell, feeling each step reverberate through her body as she stormed up the slick stone steps from the dungeon. Anger blazed behind her eyes, tightening her throat until it was hard to draw breath. A dull roar pounded in her ears, each furious heartbeat propelling her onward. She tore through the mansion’s corridors, hardly registering the lavish artwork on the walls or the distant echo of gunfire. Strekoza struggled to match her pace, calling her name, but Walker was deaf to anything but the burning need for answers.

At last, she crashed into Pincho’s grand office, ignoring the chaos of upturned furniture and the acrid tang of discharged firearms. Skull and the others flanked the room, forming a loose perimeter around Pincho, who was still gripping the handgun that she’d refused to drop. When their eyes met, Skull’s features pinched tight, his throat convulsing from the emotion in her eyes. Walker’s sudden entrance jarred everyone, and she could feel eyes snapping to her, but all she saw was Pincho.

“Where are they!” Hummingbird bellowed, voice raw. She grabbed for the badge and held it out between them. “Hazard and Leigh! What have you done with them?”

Pincho’s lips parted in a disbelieving sneer. For a moment, surprise flickered across her expression, and she took a shaky step back. “What do you mean?” she spat. “I had my men kill them. Their bodies should have been there.”

Something in Walker’s mind fractured at those words, like a final tether snapping. Rage exploded through her nerves, and she lunged. Pincho brought up her pistol to ward off the assault, but Walker lashed out, striking the weapon free from her grasp. They crashed into a desk, scattering papers and shattering a decorative vase. Pincho’s nails raked across Walker’s arm, but Walker scarcely felt it. She kicked Pincho’s knee out from under her, pivoting with a move honed by a lifetime of training.

Pincho fought dirty, clawing and spitting insults, but Walker was fueled by a fury no amount of brawling could match. A sharp twist of the woman’s wrist forced Pincho into a vulnerable position. Walker then slammed the heel of her hand into a precise spot below Pincho’s collarbone. Pincho gasped as her legs buckled. Pressure-point takedowns were second nature for Walker, and Pincho was no match for her fury.

Breathing hard, Walker kept a firm grip on Pincho’s arm, forcing her down until the woman’s knees cracked against the marble floor. “You’re going to regret everything you’ve done,” she seethed, voice trembling with wrath. “You took our people and stole them away to this godforsaken fortress. We cut through the Darién Gap to get here, lost too many lives, and leveled your empire. Your men are dead. That old man is about to watch you ruin the last scraps of your legacy. Even your husband will face a death he so richly deserves for what he’s done. No one will miss you.”

She let Pincho go and turned to spit her disgust onto the floor. But in that instant, Pincho managed to snatch a pearl-handled pistol from beneath a stack of papers on a nearby table. There was a flash of silver. Walker whirled, eyes going wide, but there was no time to react.

Before she could move more than a step, there was a blur of motion. Strekoza hurled herself forward, crashing into Walker to knock her out of the bullet’s path. The gun’s muzzle flashed, and Walker’s mind blanked with alarm. The shot reverberated through the lavish office, echoing off marble and high ceilings.

Strekoza went down with a hollow gasp of pain, clutching at her chest as she rolled across the floor. In the same instant, a volley of gunfire erupted around them, her teammates, quick and ruthless, answered Pincho’s treachery with lethal precision. Pincho’s body convulsed as the bullets tore through her, and she toppled back, leaving a dark smear on the marble where blood pooled around her.

Walker’s thoughts burst into a million shards. Ignoring the dead woman, she scrambled toward Strekoza, her heart thundering in dread. Kodiak was already there, medical kit in hand, calm etched into his features. The rest of the team, Skull, GQ, Boomer, Iceman, formed a ring of drawn weapons, scanning for any remaining threat.

The stench of gunpowder clung to the air as Kodiak deftly checked Strekoza’s vitals. He unzipped the front of her tactical catsuit just enough to reveal a nasty bruising where the bullet impacted. The specialized, bulletproof fabric had done its job, saving her life. Though breathless, Strekoza coughed out a shaky laugh of relief. The tension in the air deflated, replaced by somber sadness.

With a trembling hand, Walker brushed shards of glass away from Strekoza’s side, then glanced at Pincho’s lifeless body. No words could describe the torrent of emotions boiling inside her, rage, grief, the hollow feeling of loss where Hazard and Leigh should have been. She could sense the same anger and sorrow shared by the rest of the team.

The others looked on, hearts pounding with the memory of that single shot. Even Iceman, stoic as he was, blinked rapidly, the weight of near tragedy bearing down on his expression. Boomer stood with his rifle still raised, breath heaving. GQ pressed his bandaged arm against his chest, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. Skull drew closer to Waler, his gaze reflecting the wrenching sorrow that had settled like a storm cloud over them all. Bones paced anxiously, ears pinned back.

Amid the carnage, the old man emerged from behind a toppled shelf. He raised his hands in a broken gesture of surrender, eyes gleaming with remorse. He shook his head, tears stinging his cheeks. “She spoke the truth,” he said, voice shaking, but resolute. “I tried to stop her. It did no good. She…she wouldn’t listen.”

Walker’s chest felt hollow as she rose to her feet. Even with Pincho dead at her feet, and Strekoza mercifully alive, the haunting knowledge remained. Leigh and Hazard might truly be gone. One look at the tears brimming in her partner’s eyes told her the same dreadful sorrow clawed at them all.

In that tense hush, Kodiak helped Strekoza slowly stand, wincing. Her eyes were full of equal parts fury and relief. Walker pressed a hand over Leigh’s badge still in her pouch, a fresh wave of grief coiling in her stomach. They might have toppled Pincho’s empire, but the price felt heavier than any of them could bear.

Back at the compound,Skull stood near the head of the long conference table, watching the forlorn expressions of his team and their close friends, Anna and Walker, gathered around in a dull hush. The overhead lights buzzed faintly, a grating reminder of the stagnant, heavy air.

No one spoke at first. They all wore the same haunted look, eyes vacant, posture slouched, hearts weighed down by the news that Hazard and Leigh had likely met a terrible end on Pincho’s orders. The old man at the mansion, Pincho’s father-in-law, his chilling words repeated over and over in Skull’s mind, refusing to be silenced. Pincho had ordered their deaths. They hadn’t even been able to bring them home, no closure, no goodbye. There was a chance that Hazard and Leigh were lying in a shallow grave somewhere in the gap, with wildlife erasing any final semblance of identity. Skull felt a tightness in his chest. This was total mission failure.

GQ stood off to one side, fists clenched. His anger radiated from him, sharper than grief. “I told everyone that time was slipping away. There were too many dragging feet,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “We should’ve gone in heavier, sooner. We should’ve done something more.”

Boomer sat beside him, breathing unevenly. He rubbed at his temples as though trying to stave off a breakdown, but it overwhelmed him anyway. “Hazard…our brother,” he said, voice cracking. Memories flooded Skull faster than he could push them away. Without warning, Boomer choked on a sob. He lowered his head into his hands and wept. Iceman rose, walked to him and set his hand around his shoulder squeezing.

Walker, already on the edge of her own composure, broke into tears at the sight of Boomer’s despair. She clung to Anna, who put a tentative arm around her shoulders. Skull crossed to them, wrapped a firm, comforting arm around Walker. It was all he could do.

Walker pressed her face against his chest, quiet tears streaming across her cheeks. For a moment, the room filled with only ragged breathing and the faint hum of traffic outside. Skull wished he could say something that would mend them all. Instead, he squared his shoulders, trying his best not to sink beneath the weight of his own grief.

Suddenly, the door burst open. Startled, everyone jerked upright as several Marine guards stormed in, weapons raised. They followed a slim man in disheveled clothing. An audible sound of shock went through the room.Jose Molina?His eyes darted around the room, uncertain, but he held his hands up in surrender.

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