Page 99 of Rescuing Rebel

I stride smoothly from the ballroom, the noise fading behind me. Alone in the corridor, I touch my earpiece. “Execute Operation Exodus. I repeat, Exodus is a go.”

“Roger that. Initiating attack in ten,” CJ fires back in snappy tones.

Adrenaline floods my system. Alpha and Bravo teams will strike the external gates as a diversion while I secure Rebel and the Angels. I return to the ballroom, mind racing. The plan hinges on perfect timing to get the women out during the chaos.

When I re-enter the ballroom, my senses are heightened. Across the room, Rebel stands frozen. The Angels twist and pivot to the swelling music.

Several minutes pass, and then precisely ten minutes after I spoke to CJ, a deep, resonant boom shakes the room, halting the Angels’ performance. The women scream in fear as cracks spiderweb up the far wall and plumes of dust drift down from the rafters. Another concussive blast rocks the building. The explosions continue, approaching closer.

Panicked patrons leap up, drinks spilling. They swarm toward the exits as the room quakes. The string quartet screeches into chaotic notes, the musicians white-faced. Clouds of acrid smoke wind between the stampeding men.

The Angels clutch each other, wailing in terror. The floor pitches violently. Across the room, I glimpse the massive double doors blown inward, flames licking beyond. The far wall crumbles, exposing the night sky.

Kaufman draws a pistol with a crazed look. Before he can fire into the crowd, I grab a bottle and smash it across his temple. He collapses, knocked out cold.

I sprint through falling debris toward Rebel, who tries to corral the hysterical Angels. My earpiece crackles to life.

“Charlie team, we’re outside making noise.” Brady Malone, Bravo-One, reports on their progress. “Diversion underway.”

I almost laugh in disbelief. Against the odds, Alpha and Bravo have breached Haven’s formidable defenses. Now, to fulfill my mission—get the women out of here alive.

The explosions thunder ever closer as I reach Rebel across the crumbling ballroom. “Come with me,” I yell over the deafening destruction and grasp her arm, ready to haul her to safety.

Rebel wrenches her arm free. “I’m not leaving.”

I stare at her in bewilderment as debris rains down around us. “What are you talking about? This whole place is imploding. I need to get you out of here.”

“Take them to safety.” Rebel’s face is resolute. “I can’t leave until I find…” She shakes her head. “Save the Angels. There’s something I must do.”

“Rebel, please—” I grab her again, desperate to understand. “It’s not worth your life.”

She twists sharply out of my grasp. “Get the Angels out of here.” She points toward guards ushering the Angels out of the ballroom to safety.

I’m immobilized by shock and incomprehension. Rebel remains an enigma. I thought she would escape with us now that we’re finally bringing his operation down, but she refuses to leave. I search her face desperately, trying to understand, but her jaw is set, eyes ablaze with resolve I can’t comprehend.

She’s made her choice, and it’s not escaping with me. That realization cuts deeply.

I plead with her to reconsider, but she only pushes me to save the others. With a heavy heart, I turn to do just that. I can only pray this isn’t the last time I’ll see the mysterious woman I care for so deeply.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Ethan

“Status, Charlie team?”CJ’s voice crackles urgently through my earpiece.

“Working on it,” I reply tersely, squinting through the swirling dust and smoke filling the disintegrating ballroom. “Stand by.”

I’m vulnerable, unarmed, and exposed. I need my team.

As if summoned by my thoughts, the ballroom doors crash open. Hank and Walt stride in wearing full tactical gear, heavy rifles at the ready. Their faces are obscured by HUD helmets with optics displays glowing electric green in the haze. Eyes sweeping the chaotic scene, they spot me and make their way over.

“Fuck me, you don’t do anything small, do you, boss?” Hank has to shout to be heard over the ongoing explosions pummeling the upper levels. He passes me my own helmet and my weapons.

“Subtlety’s overrated.” I grin fiercely, relieved at the sight of them. “Where are Jeb and Stitch?”

“Wreaking havoc in the security center,” Walt yells back. “We locked it down to protect them when all hell broke loose.”

I nod, clasping their shoulders in thanks. We may just pull this off.

---