Page 9 of The Last Strike

Asher’s eyes snapped back to the footage.

“On it!”Samuel said as a sea of drones flocked together and fired at the soldiers heading Reed’s way. The men began to fall, but so did the drones.

“Reed! Reed! Get up, move. Come on!” James pleaded, his voice full of desperation.

But this time Reed did move. He lifted his chin like a defiant child and pushed up onto his legs. He swayed and Asher was sure he was going to fall over, but somehow he managed to stay upright. He took one step, his arm reaching out to steady himself against the wall. Then another. Then another.

Come on,Asher pleaded silently.

Reed was at the gate when his body jerked and he fell forward.

He hit the ground and James stood, screaming. “No! Get up, Reed, get up!”

Asher couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think.

“Get up!” James screamed again but Reed didn’t move as Adani soldiers rushed toward him.

One lone drone fired at them, but soon that screen went black and the only footage they could see was from the cameras on Reed’s body. A soldier’s face came into view and then the camera went blank.

But the second camera, the camera on his front, suddenly showed the sky. It bounced as the soldiers must’ve picked him up.

Asher stole a look at James, whose face was ashen, his eyes not leaving the screen.

Charts popped up on one screen. It took Asher a moment to realize what they were: Reed’s vitals. Blood pressure, heart rate, oxygen levels, etc. Asher was surprised they could glean all that from a tracker.

“Strip him and put him in the cells until I can contact King Asher. And give him atropine, I want him alive,” someone said, his voice sounding distant.

Asher didn’t need to see who was speaking—there was no mistaking his voice.

King Khalil.

“Get a plane ready,” James said, standing. He looked to Asher. “I’m going to get him. Reed needs medical attention, not locked in a cell. Even with the atropine, he’ll only survive so long without water—and that’s provided King Khalil doesn’t torture and kill him first.”

The realization hit Asher like a ton of bricks. Reed was Khalil’s prisoner, but he couldn’t drink from the water system he’d just poisoned.

“Whatever you need,” Asher said as his phone rang.

King Khalil.

James eyes dropped to the phone and he held up a hand like he was stopping traffic. “Reed won’t talk. No matter what they do to him, he won’t talk—I would bet my life on it. But in the state he’s in, and once he becomes dehydrated, it’s only so long before he deteriorates and becomes delirious. I’ll get to him before that,” James said, his eyes focused, determined. “Until then, tell the king that Reed was after Grace, not him. Tell him we want him alive, that you want to win the war fair and square. His ego is so big he’ll buy that. Hopefully, within a few hours King Khalil will be too sick to know any different. Then I can slip in and get Reed. Once the throne has been stripped of its rulers, we go in hard. But I need to get Reed out first. I owe him that.”

“Agreed,” Asher said. It sounded like a good plan in theory but Asher knew nothing like this was easy. And nothing went to plan.

The phone began ringing again.

James nodded and Asher answered the call.

“Your Majesty,” he said, his tone even.

“Nice try, Asher, but what a failure you are,” he said, his words laced with arrogance. He laughed. “I admire your confidence, I really do, but it won’t be long before Santina falls and you along with it. You thought you could start and end a war by sending your friend in to kill me? I don’t go down that easily, Asher.”

“Actually, Your Majesty, I sent my friend in to kill my dear Aunty Grace. He was instructed to leave you alone because I want to be standing in front of you when my friends put a bullet in your head, just like you did to my father. Make no mistake, King Khalil, I will be there to see your death.”

A heavy silence followed.

“You have dug your own grave, Asher, and I will make the people of Santina pay for your stupidity until there is no more Santina. I will enslave them, I will torture them, and I will make sure their lives are hell on Earth. Next time you have a press conference with one of your little motivational speeches, tell them exactly that.

“You should’ve backed down, Asher. You should’ve submitted to me like your father did. He knew the outcome—he was smarter than you. You’re young and foolish and that will get you nothing but trouble,” he said, gloating.

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