Le's Soldier

Part 24

You good?" he asked, voice calm but searching.

I snorted quietly. "Depends what we're measuring. Heart rate? Questionable. Headspace? Also questionable."

He smiled faintly. "Same."

For a moment we just listened to the rotors and the rush of air. Missions always did this—created space where honesty slipped out easier than usual.

"You and Leah," Tommy said after a beat. "You're serious."

I didn't hesitate. "Yeah. She's... home."

He nodded like that made perfect sense. "Good. You deserve that." He paused, then added, softer, "I don't think I ever told you this, but after Mara, I didn't think I'd let anyone in again either. Thought this job burned that part out of me."

"Didn't," I said. "Just buried it."

He huffed a laugh. "Exactly."

I leaned my head back against the seat. "Katie's doing better. Still stubborn as hell. Still thinks sarcasm is a coping strategy."

Tommy grinned. "She learned from the best."

"Yeah," I said quietly. "I worry about leaving them."

"You always do," he replied. "And you always come back." He held my gaze. "We will this time too."

The intercom crackled and the Captain's voice cut through the cabin. "Two minutes. Listen up."

We leaned in as the Captain stood, bracing himself against the frame. A map flickered to life on the screen behind him.

"Target is a temporary holding site," he said. "Light perimeter, heavy interior. Our asset is alive—confirmed within the last hour. We go quiet on approach. Lilly, you're point. Tommy, you're rear. We breach, retrieve, exfil the same route."

"No heroics," Tommy muttered.

The Captain shot him a look. "Glad we agree." Then his eyes landed on me. "They'll expect resistance once they know what's happening. If this turns hot—prioritize the asset. We do not lose them."

I nodded. "Understood."

The helicopter dipped. Adrenaline flooded my system, sharp and familiar.

We hit the ground fast.

Night swallowed us whole as we moved, boots silent against dirt and scrub. My senses narrowed—every sound louder, every shadow suspicious. The compound rose ahead, low buildings half-hidden by trees.

"Two guards, left," I whispered.

"Copy," Tommy replied.

We moved in sync. A blur of motion, controlled force, and then the path was clear.

Inside, the air smelled stale. Fear lived in places like this. I felt it crawling up my spine.

We advanced room by room until we heard it—a muffled voice. Alive.

"Contact," I breathed.

The door burst inward.

Chaos.

Someone shouted. A weapon clattered. My pulse roared in my ears as I crossed the room, dropping one threat while Tommy covered my six. In the corner, bound and bruised but breathing, was our man.

"Easy," I said, cutting restraints. "We've got you."

The building erupted—alarms, footsteps, yelling.

"Move!" Tommy barked.

We hauled the asset up just as gunfire sparked against the wall. Dirt and plaster rained down. I felt the adrenaline surge, everything sharpening into pure instinct.

We ran.

Shots chased us into the trees, breath burning, muscles screaming. I could hear the helicopter before I saw it, the sound cutting through the night like salvation.

"Almost there!" Tommy shouted.

I shoved the asset forward, covering our retreat until hands reached out and dragged him aboard. I jumped in last, heart pounding as the helicopter lifted hard and fast.

The ground fell away.

Silence hit all at once.

Tommy let out a breathless laugh, collapsing back into his seat. "Told you."

I closed my eyes for a second, relief crashing through me. "Yeah," I said softly. "We're going home."

And for the first time since we'd left, I let myself believe it.