Modupe took in a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady the pulse in her throat. Her head was pounding, and her breath came out in short, shallow bursts. Every move she made felt as though her body was pushing back against her, the weight of what had just transpired pressing down on her shoulders.
The fight—all of it seemed like a blur. Her body was sore in places she couldn't even begin to identify, but she knew one thing for certain: she had to keep moving. The mission was far from over.
Before she could even take a full step, a soft thud broke through the air around her, followed by the creak of metal. Taiwo approached her slowly, his footsteps soft on the forest floor
She didn't need to look at him to know the expression he wore. His quiet intensity was almost palpable as he knelt down beside her. Without saying a word, Taiwo reached into the first aid box that sat securely in the back of the ATOV . The tin box opened with a soft snap, revealing a well-organized assortment of supplies. He grabbed a sterilizing cloth and gently dabbed at the wound on her arm—a jagged cut from the agent they had fought earlier
Modupe hissed softly in pain as the antiseptic liquid soaked into the wound. Taiwo's hands were steady, efficient, his concentration unwavering. Despite the severity of the situation, there was a calmness to his movements, a quiet professionalism that Modupe couldn't help but appreciate. She gritted her teeth, trying to keep her breathing steady as Taiwo worked, his fingers moving carefully over her side.
"There," he said, his voice low but steady. "That should hold for now."
She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the cold metal of the van. The silence that surrounded them was heavy, almost suffocating, but Modupe needed this moment. She needed to gather her thoughts. They had been through so much already. There was no turning back now.
Taiwo reached for the water bottle beside him, twisting the cap off with a quick motion. He offered it to her wordlessly, his eyes searching hers for any sign of weakness. Modupe accepted the bottle, tilting her head back and taking a long, satisfying gulp. The cool water slid down her throat, refreshing her in a way she hadn't known she needed.
"I don't know if I can keep doing this," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The words felt heavy, a burden she hadn't realized she'd been carrying until now.
Taiwo's gaze softened, but he didn't say anything at first. Instead, he took a drink himself, his eyes never leaving her face. The two of them shared this unspoken moment—an understanding that went beyond words. They had both been through the fire, and now they had to make it out alive.
After a long moment, Taiwo finally spoke. "We'll make it. We've come this far, and there's no turning back now."
Modupe nodded, though the weight of his words hung in the air. It wasn't just a matter of survival anymore; they were deep in enemy territory, and the stakes had never been higher. Their mission wasn't just to survive—it was to retrieve the alien technology, the one thing that could change everything. It was the reason they were still alive, the reason they were still fighting.
"We need to move," she said, her voice firming as she stood up, wincing slightly as the pain in her side flared up. She reached for her gun, her fingers brushing against the cool metal of the weapon, and took a deep breath. "Lance should be here any minute."
Taiwo nodded. The urgency of the situation hung in the air, thick and heavy, but Modupe could see that Taiwo was ready. They both knew what needed to be done.
As they prepared to leave, Modupe's thoughts turned to the ship. Lance, the AI who had helped them navigate through this hellish mission, had been invaluable. She needed to reach him now.
"Lance," she muttered under her breath, activating the telepathic link.
A soft hum filled the air as the AI's voice, calm and steady, resonated through her mind.
"Yes, Dr.?"
"The task. Is it done?" Modupe asked, her voice sharp with urgency.
"Yes, Dr. I released a gas to slow their circulatory processes. They suffered frostbite before I released an influx of concentrated Khanqix cleaning fluid to clear their bodies. The task is done, and the ship is cleaned of all traces," Lance responded, the efficiency in his voice making her feel momentarily at ease. The AI had done his job well.
"Lance."
"Yes, Dr.?"
"We need to leave here," Modupe said, her voice now cold with determination.
"Affirmative, Dr. Should I deploy a vehicle to retrieve you?" Lance asked, his voice unwavering.
"No. Come to me directly. We will take all evidence and every source of alien technology," Modupe ordered, her eyes scanning the horizon as she felt the weight of their mission closing in around her. They had no time to waste.
"As you wish, Dr. ETA: three minutes," Lance replied, his voice neutral as always, but with a tinge of efficiency that reminded Modupe of just how much she depended on the ship's AI.
The conversation ended as quickly as it had begun, leaving Modupe with a moment to steel herself for what was to come. She exhaled slowly, her hands trembling slightly.
Taiwo was already by the ATOV, his movements swift as he prepared to leave. He was a soldier through and through, and his calm demeanor in the face of danger had always been a source of strength for Modupe. She could rely on him.
"You ready?" Taiwo asked, his voice low as he turned to face her.
Modupe gave him a sharp nod, her jaw set. "Let's go."
The two of them stepped into the cold night, the silence pressing in around them as they made their way to the designated meeting point. The stars above them seemed distant, unreachable, but Modupe knew better than to look to the heavens for comfort. There was no room for hope in this war. There was only saving themselves.
As they walked through the wreckage, Modupe couldn't help but feel a strange mix of awe and dread. They had come so far, but the dangers were far from over. The alien technology they had recovered was more than just a prize—it was a weapon, a key to survival in a war that seemed destined to never end.
They needed to get back to the ship.
Taiwo's voice broke through her thoughts, low and steady. "We'll make it, Modupe. Just like we always do."
She glanced at him, offering a small smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I hope so."
As they approached the rendezvous point, the faint hum of the ship's engines grew louder, and Modupe's heart skipped a beat. Lance would be waiting for them. He always was. No matter the odds, no matter how dangerous things got, Lance was always there.
And with him, they had a chance.
---
The spaceship rose silently from the dirt clearing where it had rested for the last three centuries and sixty-four years. Its sleek, black surface shimmered under the faint moonlight, levitating gently until it hovered just above the treetops. The surrounding forest seemed to hold its breath, the usual rustle of leaves and nocturnal calls silenced by the awe-inspiring presence of the alien craft.
Without warning, the ship flung itself forward, slicing through the air with impossible agility. It zipped toward the coordinates provided by its master, responding to the telepathic summons with unerring precision.
"Dr.?" Lance's voice resonated in Modupe's mind, calm and efficient.
"Yes, Lance?"
"I have visuals on you. Preparing to land for extraction."
"No," Modupe replied, her voice firm despite the exhaustion weighing her down. "Time is of the essence. Employ a quicker method."
"Affirmative, Dr. Initiating rapid retrieval."
Leaning against the Kudu-Class ATOV, the tired couple exchanged a somber glance. Around them, the huddle of agents' lifeless bodies lay scattered in the ATOV's rear compartment. The faint glow of the Sentinel Vision glasses reflected off Taiwo's face, highlighting the weariness etched into his features.
The air was thick with the acrid scent of burned flesh, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. Modupe shivered as she turned her gaze toward the ship. Its underside gleamed faintly, a hulking silhouette that seemed to absorb the surrounding darkness.
Suddenly, points of blue light flickered to life across the belly of the ship. The lights, like focused beams of energy, moved purposefully, aligning themselves to rest squarely on the couple. Modupe gasped as an otherworldly sensation washed over her—a weightlessness that defied gravity.
They began to rise.
The blue beams buoyed them silently into the air, lifting them from the forest floor like leaves carried by an invisible wind. Beside the glowing light outlets, panels on the ship's underside peeled back, revealing an opening large enough to receive them.
Taiwo tilted his head to look at the ship as they ascended, his lips curling into a weak smile despite the tension of the moment. "Oh, beam me up, Scotty," he quipped, his voice tinged with weary amusement.
Modupe glanced at him, her eyebrows arching in faint surprise. "What?"
"Star Trek," Taiwo explained, still looking at the ship. "Remember that series?"
Modupe managed a small chuckle. "Yeah, Star Trek. It feels like we're living the lives of the Enterprise's crew now."
Her smile faltered, giving way to a trembling sob. "But at such a big price. Now… now we'll be fugitives forever."
Her voice cracked, tears streaking down her face. Taiwo reached for her hand as they floated higher, his grip firm and reassuring.
"Fugitives or not," he said softly, "we survive together. Always."
The ship's opening yawned above them, its edges glowing faintly as if welcoming them into the void. The couple ascended into the night, leaving behind the chaos, the bodies, and the shattered remnants of their former lives.
They floated gently into the unknown, carried by beams of alien light, their future cloaked in mystery.
---
Hidden within the shadows of the towering trees, Agent Olivia Stone crouched low, her breath ragged and shallow. Blood trickled down her temple, mingling with the dirt smeared across her face. Her left arm hung limp at her side, the bone fractured in multiple places, while her ribs screamed with every shallow inhale.
She had barely escaped the massacre, crawling her way out amidst the chaos. Now, bruised, bloodied, and broken, she watched the Hassans rise into the ship, the blue beams illuminating their serene expressions.
Her fists clenched, the pain forgotten for a moment as fury coursed through her veins. "Traitors," she hissed under her breath, her voice trembling with venom. "You think you've won? That you can leave all this behind?"
The glowing lights of the ship reflected in her bloodshot eyes as she vowed silently, bitterly.
"I swear upon my life, Modupe Hassan, Taiwo Hassan… I will hunt you down. No matter where you go, no matter how far you run, I will make you pay for this."
She spat out a mouthful of blood, her fingers clawing at the damp earth beneath her. The pain in her body was nothing compared to the searing hatred burning in her chest.
From her vantage point, she saw the ship's underside close seamlessly, its lights winking out as it prepared to depart. The hum of its engines grew louder, sending ripples through the air. Olivia shrank deeper into the shadows, her eyes narrowing as she etched the moment into her memory.
They would pay. She would make sure of it.