Page 108 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
My team nods, their expressions hard with resolve. I can see the tension in their shoulders, the readiness in theireyes. We've trained for this, but the stakes have never been higher.
"Remember, we're here for Alina. Quick, quiet, and clean. Let's move."
I pause, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "And anyone who touched her is mine. No exceptions."
The team exchanges glances, but no one argues. Frost gives a curt nod, his expression cooling several degrees.
They've seen me angry before, but never like this. Even Jax, who typically has a smart-ass comment for everything, stays dead silent. They recognize this isn't just about the mission anymore.
"Copy that," Blade responds, his measured tone carrying understanding. This isn't just tactical—it's personal.
Frost and I advance through the trees, our footsteps barely making a sound on the forest floor. The crunch of pine needles under our boots is muffled by the gentle rustling of leaves in the night breeze.
As we approach the first sentry, I signal to Frost. He nods, understanding our practiced routine. I move to the left, circling around behind our target.
I approach the guard silently from behind. In one swift movement, I lock my hands around his head. With a sharp, practiced twist, the bones in his neck snap. His body instantly goes slack.
I lower him gently to the ground, my heart pounding in my chest. The familiar rush of adrenaline courses through my veins, but I push it aside, focusing on the mission.
Frost takes down the second sentry with equal efficiency. He moves like a shadow, his movements precise anddeadly. A quick twist, a muffled grunt, and another guard falls.
We continue our advance, taking out two more sentries before we reach the edge of the clearing where the cabin stands. The wooden structure looms before us, its windows dark and uninviting.
I press my finger to my earpiece. "Perimeter clear. Moving in."
As we approach the cabin, I can hear the faint sound of voices from inside. My muscles tense, ready for action. The wooden steps of the porch creak softly under our weight, and I pause, listening for any sign that we've been detected.
Silence.
I nod to Frost, and we take up positions on either side of the door. The rough wood of the cabin wall presses against my back as I ready myself for what's to come.
I take a slow, controlled breath, centering myself before signaling to enter. Frost works on the lock. With a barely audible click, the door yields. A slight nod from him tells me we're good to go.
I push the door open slowly, weapon raised, and we slip silently across the threshold. Unwanted memories flash through my mind. This cabin's layout feels disturbingly familiar—too much like that compound in Syria. My pulse quickens as we move forward, hyper-aware of every creak and shadow.
This isn't Syria. Alina needs you.
But the similarities are impossible to ignore. The narrow hallway, the creaking floorboards under our feet. I can almost hear the echoes of gunfire and children's screams from that night.
"Clear," Frost whispers, his voice a controlled murmur as he checks the first room.
We move deeper into the cabin, checking each room methodically. The musty scent of old wood mingles with a faint trace of lavender. It's different from the acrid smell of gunpowder and fear that filled my nostrils in Syria, but the tension in the air is the same.
Where are you, Alina?
As we near the shut door at the hallway's end, memories flood my mind. I see those kids again, cowering in fear. The crushing burden of everyone I couldn't save—my squad, my family, my friends—nearly brings me to my knees.
Not now. Stay in the present.
I grip my weapon tighter, forcing the memories back. This mission is different. We're here for Alina, and I won't let her down like I let down my team.
"Ghost," Asher's voice whispers next to me. "You good?"
I nod, not trusting my voice. We position ourselves on either side of the door, ready to breach. The wood feels rough under my gloved hand as I reach for the handle.
Please be okay, Alina.
With a silent count of three, I turn the handle and push the door open. We burst into the room, weapons raised. The sight that greets us makes my blood run cold.
