The canal was silent. Too silent. Haqim's instincts screamed danger, but there was no turning back now. The small boat they had boarded creaked with every subtle movement, slicing through the black water like a dagger in the night. The only sounds were the soft paddling of Kasim's oars and the distant echoes of the city above.
Farah sat beside Haqim, her eyes scanning the shadows. She was tense—more than usual. Malik, who had been at the center of suspicion earlier, now sat silently at the rear, glancing over his shoulder with every movement of the water. Haqim could sense the weight of unease among them, thick and oppressive.
Haqim kept his pistol ready, resting across his lap. His mind was racing through the possibilities. Faizan's men knew where they were; they were coming. How many? From where? The canal was their only way out, but it felt more like a trap than an escape route.
Kasim, ever the scout, spoke quietly over his shoulder. "We should be nearing the underground tunnel soon. From there, we can split off into the side channels and lose them."
Haqim gave a tight nod, though his grip on the gun tightened. Something wasn't right. The canals had too many places to be ambushed. Every archway, every bend in the narrow waterway felt like a death sentence waiting to happen.
Farah's voice broke the silence, a low whisper. "Haqim, we should have gone another way. This route... it doesn't feel right."
Haqim looked at her, her face barely visible in the dim light. "It's too late now. We keep moving."
As they rounded a bend in the canal, Malik suddenly froze, his eyes wide with terror. "Stop! Stop the boat!" he hissed.
The entire group halted. Kasim pulled the oars up, the boat gliding silently into a more shadowed part of the canal. Ahead, in the dim light filtering from the street above, Haqim saw what had terrified Malik.
Figures. Several of them.
They were barely visible at first, masked by the thick shadows under the bridge. Haqim's heart raced. Faizan's men, stationed like sentinels along the sides of the canal, waiting in silence.
"It's an ambush," Farah whispered, pulling out her knife, the glint of the blade barely visible in the gloom.
Before anyone could react, gunfire erupted from both sides of the canal. Bullets hissed through the air, some hitting the water with sharp splashes. Kasim ducked instinctively, tipping the boat slightly, and the group scrambled for cover behind the sides of the vessel.
"Return fire!" Haqim ordered, aiming his pistol and firing toward the dark figures.
The gunshots were deafening in the confined space of the canal. Malik cowered in the back, fear overtaking him as he pressed his body against the wooden hull, trying to disappear into the darkness.
Kasim was already reloading his rifle, eyes sharp as he took down one of Faizan's men with a single shot. "There's too many!" he yelled.
"We need to keep moving!" Haqim shouted back, knowing staying in one place was suicide.
Farah, despite the chaos, moved swiftly. She tossed a smoke bomb toward the ambushers, filling the canal with thick, black smoke that obscured their view. It wouldn't hold for long, but it would give them a few precious seconds.
"Kasim, move us forward!" Haqim yelled, still firing shots into the thickening smoke. Kasim, without hesitation, plunged the oars into the water and began paddling with all his strength.
The boat surged forward, the gunfire lessening as the smoke disoriented their attackers. But it wasn't over yet. Haqim could hear footsteps on the bridges above, more of Faizan's men moving into position.
Suddenly, the boat jerked violently as something struck the hull. Farah swore under her breath, looking over the edge. "Grappling hooks. They're trying to pull us in."
Haqim saw the ropes now, anchored to the sides of the canal, pulling them toward the ambushers on the shore. Faizan's men were closing the trap.
With a swift motion, Haqim aimed his pistol and shot the nearest rope, severing it from the boat. Farah did the same on her side, her knife flashing as she cut through the second rope. But the boat was still slowing, the remaining ropes pulling them back.
"There's too many!" Kasim growled, firing his rifle again, taking down another enemy. The boat was now half-drifting, half being pulled back by the remaining ropes.
Haqim's mind raced. They had to escape, but Faizan's men were too well-prepared. The smoke was beginning to clear, and in the dim light, he saw their attackers closing in on both sides of the canal.
"We jump," Haqim said suddenly.
Farah shot him a look. "What?"
"It's the only way," he replied, his voice hard. "We dive into the water and split up. They won't be able to follow us all."
Farah hesitated, then nodded. Kasim, always quick to adapt, was already preparing to abandon the boat. Malik, however, looked petrified.
"You can't leave me here!" Malik pleaded, his voice rising with fear.
"You betrayed us," Farah spat, her eyes cold. "Consider this your second chance."
Before Malik could protest, Haqim grabbed him by the collar and tossed him into the water. The splash was barely audible over the gunfire.
"Now!" Haqim ordered, and with that, he dove into the water.
The icy cold shock hit him instantly, but he forced his body to move. Above, he could hear the shouts of Faizan's men, confused by the sudden disappearance of their targets.
Farah and Kasim were close behind, their figures barely visible as they swam in opposite directions down the canal. Haqim moved swiftly, keeping to the shadows beneath the bridges, his breath steady and controlled.
The canal opened up into several branches, and Haqim took the leftmost path, losing himself in the maze of waterways. The sound of gunfire faded behind him as he swam deeper into the shadows.
Minutes passed. His body ached from the cold, but he pushed on, his mind focused on survival. The city above was a blur of light and shadow, the distant sounds of the night muffled by the water.
Finally, Haqim pulled himself onto the shore of a narrow alleyway, hidden from view. He collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily. His heart pounded in his chest, but he was alive. They had escaped the trap—for now.
He waited, listening for any sign of pursuit. The canal was silent once more.
But Haqim knew this was only the beginning. Faizan had made his move, and the next confrontation would be even deadlier.
As he caught his breath, Haqim's mind returned to the one thought that haunted him more than anything else.
There was still a mole among them. And until they found out who it was, no one in the resistance could be trusted.