Breaking Through (21 page)

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Authors: D. Nichole King

BOOK: Breaking Through
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I’m on a table. I grab onto the edge to keep from falling off. Below me, over-polished wooden planks mirror my image. I look as though I haven’t slept in a week. Bright red pumps stop on my reflection.

“Good morning, Nautia. I trust you slept well?” Cara’s voice sounds like razors in my ears, and I cringe away from it. She grabs my chin and forces me back to her. “No? No matter. You will be soon.”

“Why?” I rasp out.

“Why what, honey?” she says in a motherly tone that makes me want to puke again.

I slit my eyes open enough to see her own blazing ones. “Why set us up?”

Cara scoffs, shrugging. “Ji-jin offered me more than Brighton, more than the United States government, so why the fucking hell not?”

“People are going to die,” I say.

“People die every day. It’s the way the world works. Come on, Nautia, don’t take it personally. You’ve heard the phrase ‘It’s just good business,’ right?” She runs her fingers through my hair. “Politics, military, borders controversy, weapons, all the fucking red tape—trust me, it’s insane. Anyway, it’s survival of the fittest out there, but I’m going to change that. Equal opportunity for everyone.”

“By blowing them up?”

Cara smiles. She grabs my wrists and pulls them over my head. What feels like rope cuts into my skin as she wraps it around me. I struggle against her, but the movement shoots daggers into my brain. I cry out as black haze creeps into my line of sight. I hold out a hand to summon a wave, a thunderstorm, something, but only drizzle sprinkles over us.

I’m powerless.

Cara shoots a glance over her shoulder and yells to someone, “One more shot should do it. Get it ready.” Then she turns back to me. “You won’t drown, so more than likely you’ll die of carbon monoxide poisoning. But on the off chance your precious water decides to protect you again, the memory serum will wipe the slate clean. In minutes, you won’t remember who you are or that you can control water.”

A soldier hands her what I assume is a syringe.

“Sleep tight, Nautia,” she says and jabs the needle into my neck.

I jolt awake as the rest of the missing pieces of my past fuse together again. Beside me, Riley is sound asleep, the sheet half off him. My legs are tangled with his, and the warmth of his body is the last catalyst I need.

I hadn’t woken up screaming like I usually do. My fear is gone. The wall inside my head is gone. And I’m finally thinking clearly.

TorpMissionTwo’s objective is to retrieve information from North Korea’s weapons program. Specifically the hydroplexasma. Get a sample, if possible. I’ll do everything in my power to help the mission succeed.

But I have a new mission now:

Avenge Nate.

Kill Cara.

“Ackley, the top floor
of the abandoned building is only forty percent stable, but stick to the perimeter, and you’ll have a decent sight line. Get Kray and Britta set up, then meet us at the south doors,” I instruct.

“Yes, sir.”

They leave and I face the rest of the crew. “The east and west corners have watchtowers that house a few soldiers each.” I swing. “Gibson?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You are the east group. Understood?”

“No problem.”

“Haskal and Rogers, you’ve got the west tower. Keep it quiet and clean.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ivan and Nautia, you’re with me. Everyone—move out!”

Heads down with weapons drawn, we creep out from our cover. Now we’re targets to Korean military, but it’s the best strategy we have.

Nautia stays behind me as we shuffle around the construction separating us from the south entrance of the weapons facility. The short puffs of air coming from her makes me swivel my head.

“No fear,” I remind her. “Only control.”

She squeezes her eyelids shut and nods. Her shoulders rise in a deep inhale, then lower as she blows it out. When her eyes open, they lock onto me. For a few seconds, I abandon my role as captain and trail a finger down her face to calm her. I need to know she’s okay.

“We should get to the gate,” she says.

Just like that, I’m back to focusing on the team instead of only Nautia.

“Ivan, keep your eye on the east tower. Nautia, on the west. I have the two guards at one o’clock.” I indicate the directions before I steal forward, leaving Nautia and Ivan in the shadows of the building. If all goes according to plan, Ackley will join them shortly. So far, I’ve heard nothing in my earpiece to indicate otherwise.

A hundred yards from the gate, I squat behind a bush, roll on the silencer, and wait for the signals.

A minute later, Nautia’s voice rings into my ear, “West tower down.” Ivan follows with, “East down now too.”

“Head in,” I reply and aim. With two quick shots, the guards in front of the gate drop to the ground. Seconds later, Gibson has them levitated inches over the blacktop and lowers them behind a cluster of bushes.

“We’re a go,” Kray radios in.

“Copy that,” I say.

“There’s a truck heading your way from the north. Looks like less than two minutes.”

I signal to Haskal. “Get us in. Now.”

“My pleasure,” he says, and with one quick swipe of his palm, the metal locks break and he pushes the gate open. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?” he asks Nautia as she jogs past him.

“I’ve had better,” she replies, glancing at me.

I grin back.

We’re so close. The side entrance is less than a hundred feet away.

Leading my team, I sprint for the warehouse door. Gibson has the tail end, but he’s in the shadow of the eaves before headlights round the corner.

“Shit, man. We’ve got company,” Kray coms. “And so do you.”

“Copy that. Ackley still with you?”

“No, sir.”

Fuck.

“Communication line is down,” Kray clarifies. “Heart monitor is flat. She’s gone.”

“Give ’em hell,” I say.

“Yes, sir.”

The line goes dead, and I turn to Haskal. “Get us in,” I demand.

A sweep of his hand on the hinges, and the door comes loose. Gibson quietly levitates the steel. Small floodlights illuminate the open room and, with weapons ready, Ivan and I lead the team into the semi-darkness.

“This is the right place,” Nautia gasps out.

I hesitate, swallowing, ’cause I don’t want to say what I have to. “Lead the way.”

I stay close, touching a hand on her waist and scanning the area. Voices from outside put me on high alert, and I signal to Rogers and Gibson to hang back. They break away, ducking behind long metal tubes lining the south wall.

“All clear, sir.” There’s a strange silence before Kray continues. Then: “Britta is dead.”

Nautia turns and stares at me. There’s disbelief and worry darkening her irises. I can’t spare anyone to back up Kray, and we need a lookout. Deterring now might kill us all.

“Copy that,” I answer. “Stick to the plan.”

“Yes, sir.”

Nautia’s gaze hangs on me for a moment before she moves forward. A crash by the entrance followed by yells and gunshots speeds her up. She runs down the center of the room, Haskal, Ivan, and me at her heels.

Ahead, a dozen North Korean soldiers rush in on us. I act on instinct—pull out my gun and shoot. From the corner of my eye, I catch Nautia dive headfirst into a work station to her left. I drop to the floor and roll in that direction to cover her.

“Heads up!” Haskal shouts and thrusts his hand into the air. Metal shells of macrometallium suspended above us crash to the floor. With a push, he sends half of them toward the remaining soldiers. The rest he sends in the opposite direction.

“Gibson’s flatlined, sir,” Kray says into my earpiece.

“Copy,” I reply. Then I yell, “Ivan, south entrance. Go.”

She darts down the walkway. One look at Haskal, and I determine he’s fine. There’s only two Korean soldiers left. Haskal has them on their knees, their own weapons floating in midair and trained at their foreheads. Two seconds later, the guns fire.

I jump to my feet and join Nautia at the computer. She has it on, and her fingers are flying over the keyboard.

“Kray, I could really use a password here,” she says.

“Good thing I’ve got one then, huh?” he replies. “Y66gsk90#1.”

The screen lights up with chemical formulas for not only what we came for, but also other in-the-works weaponry too.

“Holy shit,” I murmur. “They’ve got a goddamn arsenal.”

Nautia digs into the inside of her vest and pulls out a flash drive. Haskal joins us as she begins to upload the information.

“Those dudes are heavy,” he says. “This place is the shit. Check out the tanks.”

“Yeah, and they’re not empty,” Nautia says. “Here.” She pulls out two glass vials and hands one to each of us. “You want a piece of the hydroplexasma? It’s in that tank.”

“You
see
it?” I ask.

“Yep. It’s not invisible to me.”

Haskal submerges his knife into the water. He fumbles before withdrawing a pink glob. “This the stuff?”

“That’s it.” Nautia grabs the flash drive. “And I’ve got the formulas. Let’s get out of here.”

“Ivan? Rogers? You copy?” I say into the radio channel.

“Yes, sir,” Rogers answers. “We’re almost to you.”

“We clear?”

“We’re good here, sir.”

“Kray? What’s it look like?”

“You’ve got some vehicles approaching from the north and the south. East door’s your best bet. Have Haskal tear down the fence,” Kray responds.

“Copy that. Meet you at the shore.”

“You got it.”

Nautia’s gaze probes me. I take her hand and squeeze. “He’ll be okay. They’ll follow us.”

She offers an unsure nod, then tells Kray, “Be careful.”

“Always,” he says. “Get out of there now.”

With Nautia in tow, I take off. By the time we reach the east entrance, tires crunch over gravel and shouts filter through the door.

“The fence, Haskal,” I shout.

“It’ll be gone when we get there,” he replies. Metal creaks and scratches. Then, in one swoop, the fence from ground to post rolls up.

“Incoming!” Rogers yells as a group of soldiers rounds the corner and starts to shoot.

Nautia stumbles but keeps running. Rogers and Ivan spin and fire off a few rounds. Haskal stops, focusing on the fence posts until they skyrocket. The fence hovers over the Korean soldiers before Haskal drops it on top of them, impaling them.

“Let’s go!” I yell.

“Building’s clear,” Kray says into my earpiece.

“Copy.” I run after Nautia. Behind me, shots rip through the air. I spin and point my gun at the sound. A sniper has us in his sights, so I duck behind a tree. I peer around the trunk, take aim, and shoot. But I’m not fast enough; Ivan falls to the ground a few feet from me.

“Haskal! Cover Nautia!”

He passes me, and I toss him the vial of hydroplexasma. More shots, but then we’re clear for now. Rogers joins me. We run like hell through the stand of trees. Soon, we catch up with Haskal and Nautia. She’s on the ground, clutching her side, and the pain in my chest makes me come to a dead halt. It’s like I’m the one who’s been shot.

I walk to her and drop to my knees.

“Captain, we need to keep moving,” Rogers says, his gun pointed behind us.

“How bad?” I ask, trying to remain calm.

“Bad,” Haskal says.

“Hold still.”

It seems Haskal has already removed Nautia’s Kevlar vest. It didn’t do shit. I lift up her blood-soaked shirt. She’s on her side, keeping the wound off the ground. I shine my flashlight over her, my hand shaking.

There’s a bullet hole in her back. From the position, it barely cleared the hem of her vest and slid into her at the perfect angle. Ivan, our medic, is gone. God knows when I can get her help.

My brain tells me the decision should be easy: Nautia won’t survive, and the success of the mission is of utmost importance. This—right here—is why I’d never gotten involved with another soldier. Why I should have kept Nautia the fuck away from my heart.

“I’m sorry,” Nautia rasps out, her blue-green irises breaking me. She coughs. Blood stains the corner of her mouth. “Here.”

She places the flash drive in my hand and closes my fingers around it. “Finish this.”

“Ah, shit.” I shut my eyes for a moment before answering. “I promise.”

The sound of rustling leaves has Haskal pulling out his Glock and joining Rogers at the front line. We need to get out of here, or we’ll all die.

I can’t leave her.

“Go,” Nautia says, reading my mind. “I have enough energy to hold them off. I’ll give you a head start.”

She sends me a weak smile before she closes her eyes. Her palms turn upward as she gathers water molecules from the air. Above her, a globe of water forms.

I glance at Haskal and Rogers, who are poised and ready for a new showdown. I’ve already taken too much time. And yet I make my decision.

“Haskal. Rogers,” I say. “Get ready to run on my command.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re coming with us, Nautia,” I murmur so low to not break her concentration. “Let the water go when I tell you.”

Her eyelids flutter, her arms weakening under the weight she’s holding.

Ji-jin’s soldiers draw closer, their footfalls growing louder.

“And…” I wait.

Wait—

“NOW!”

Everything happens at once. Nautia blasts the water missile at the Koreans. Haskal and Rogers dive out of the way and take off running. And I scoop Nautia up and sprint after them.

I don’t stop until we get to the rendezvous point at the shore. Kray is already in the boat we hid, and when he sees me carrying Nautia, he jumps out.

“Is she—” he starts.

“No.”

Rogers and Haskal cover us as we lay her down onto the floor of the fishing boat. Her skin is cooling. She doesn’t even wince. I look at Kray.

“She’s not,” I insist.

I gather her into my arms. Hold her against me and kiss her. Because there’s nothing else I can do.

The lights of the simulation room blink back on, and the scene around us disappears. Britta, Sickles, Ackley, Gibson, and the others sit outside the red line on the floor.

“Mission successful,” the computer announces.

Nautia’s eyes flutter open and land on me. “That was a simulation? It felt so
real
.”

“Yeah,” I answer, holding her with my eyes. My mind is still separating reality from fiction while my heart pounds with relief.

She’s alive!

Nautia unstraps her vest and hikes up her shirt. There’s a small dot where the bullet entered in the simulation. I hate the mark and the memory associated with it.

“Hell yes! We did it!” Kray does a touchdown dance, ending in a backflip. “Whoo!”

“Don’t get too excited,” I say. “We lost over half our men, and we only have a week until the real deal. Everyone, take thirty. Then we’re going back in.”

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