Page 22 of The Last Strike

He focused on his breathing, moving as fast and safely as possible. They ran against the wall.

James heard shouting behind them—no doubt someone had discovered the dead soldiers in the Marble Hall—and knew they had seconds before they were discovered.

He looked over his shoulder and saw the woman was still behind them. She was keeping a safe distance, like she wanted to make it known she wasn’t a threat. And as James looked at her now, in the full light, he saw more clearly that her lip was bloody and her cheek was bruised. Maybe the blood in her hair was hers.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two soldiers run up behind them. As they turned their weapons on the woman, James fired and they dropped to the ground.

The woman inhaled sharply, spinning around. She looked back to James, her eyes doubled in size but filled with gratitude. James didn’t stop. Wherever those men came from, more were coming.

He turned back in time to see six men run around the corner of the hallway they needed to go down. Pushing Reed against the wall, he grabbed a second weapon and fired.

James didn’t miss.

But the threat wasn’t over. Two more soldiers came from behind, and this time they reached the woman before James could shoot them.

“Going somewhere, Princess?” one of the guards asked as he grabbed her and pressed a weapon against her forehead.

Her eyes pleaded with James, and he groaned. He looked both ways—he didn’t have time to fight them. He needed to get out.

But he could do one thing. James raised his weapon as the soldier smiled at him.

“You think you’re that good of a shot?”

His head snapped back as a bullet hit him between the eyes.

“Yes,” James said simply.

The woman screamed as blood sprayed over her.

“Hurry! Hurry!” James said, motioning her forward. He hadn’t intended to rescue a second prisoner, but he had a conscience, and he couldn’t leave her when she was so close to freedom. The woman took a moment to collect herself then ran toward him, smearing the blood from her cheeks as she tried to wipe it away.

“Team, move in!” James said as they ran for the tower.

Asher

The air felt thick and his palms were sweating.

“Copy,”the response came, strong and fast.

Asher’s eyes dropped to the new footage screen as the team moved in. They moved fast but controlled.

Asher’s lungs burned and he realized he was holding his breath.

“Samuel, do you know who she is?” Asher asked.

“No. The soldier said her name, I think, but the audio wasn’t clear enough to hear properly through James’s earpiece. We’ll ask James when he’s on the jet. In the meantime, I’m running facial-recognition software to see if we can find a match,”he said, sounding distracted.

“Thanks,” Asher said, not wanting to distract him further.

Again, Asher wondered what it was like for Samuel, always watching from afar—always seeing your friends taking huge risks.

Asher returned his attention to the screen. James was firing at the men behind them. Reed was shooting too, but Asher wasn’t sure if he was actually hitting anyone. He didn’t look well.

His heart lunged into his throat when he saw a group of men come up behind James and Reed, and they weren’t Thomas Security men.

“Behind you!”Samuel said as James swung around, his shoulders against Reed’s as they fired at the men, shielding the woman they had somehow managed to rescue.

Asher stopped breathing again, sure he was about to witness their deaths—but, like a train through the night, the Thomas Security men entered the footage and unloaded more ammunition than Asher had ever witnessed. Reed and James dropped to the floor, pulling the woman down too.

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