Ethan's POV
The roar of engines pierced the night as the first SUV skidded to a stop near the wreckage of the plane. Men poured out, their boots crunching against the debris-strewn ground. The beam of their flashlights swept across the area, searching for any sign of life.
I crouched low behind a smoldering chunk of the plane's fuselage, gripping the pistol in my hand. The magazine was full, but against a dozen armed men, it might as well have been empty.
I could still see the faint outline of Sophia as she vanished into the forest. She was safe—for now. That was all that mattered.
"Spread out!" one of the men barked, his voice cold and commanding.
They fanned out, their flashlights slicing through the darkness. I ducked lower, calculating my next move. There was no way I could take them all on, but if I could create a distraction, I might buy Sophia enough time to get to safety.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a flare. One of the emergency supplies I'd salvaged from the plane.
"Here goes nothing," I muttered.
I lit the flare and tossed it toward the edge of the clearing. The sudden burst of red light and smoke drew their attention immediately.
"Over there!" one of them shouted, and the men moved as one, their weapons trained on the flare.
While they were distracted, I slipped around the opposite side of the wreckage, moving as quietly as possible. The forest was dense, offering some cover, but I knew it wouldn't take long for them to realize they'd been duped.
I made it about fifty yards before the first shout rang out.
"He's here!"
Bullets tore through the trees around me, splintering wood and kicking up dirt. I hit the ground, rolling behind a fallen log.
"Fan out!" the leader shouted. "He couldn't have gotten far."
The men advanced, their flashlights sweeping over the ground. My grip on the pistol tightened as I took a deep breath, steadying my aim.
One of the men came too close, his flashlight beam skimming over my hiding spot. I fired once, the shot echoing through the forest. He went down with a grunt, his flashlight clattering to the ground.
"Contact! He's armed!"
The forest erupted into chaos as the men opened fire, their bullets ripping through the underbrush. I stayed low, moving from one piece of cover to the next.
I managed to take down two more before they began to close in. My position was compromised, and I was running out of options.
Then I heard it—the faint hum of an approaching vehicle. For a moment, I thought it might be Sophia coming back for me, but the sound was different, heavier.
The headlights appeared first, cutting through the darkness. An armored truck barreled into the clearing, its mounted spotlight sweeping over the scene.
Langston.
The back of the truck opened, and more men poured out, their movements swift and coordinated. These weren't just hired thugs—these were professionals.
"Ethan Black," a voice called out, smooth and mocking.
Langston stepped out of the truck, his silhouette illuminated by the spotlight. He was dressed impeccably as always, his tailored suit a stark contrast to the chaos around him.
"You've caused me quite a bit of trouble tonight," he said, his voice carrying through the clearing. "But it ends here."
I stepped out from behind the log, my pistol raised. "You've been saying that for years, Langston. Yet here I am."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Always so defiant. That's what I've always admired about you, Ethan. Your refusal to quit, even when the odds are stacked against you."
The spotlight swung toward me, blinding me momentarily. I shielded my eyes, trying to keep my aim steady.
"Hand over the files," Langston said, his tone turning icy. "And I might let you walk out of here alive."
"Funny," I said, taking a step forward. "I was about to make you the same offer."
Langston's smile faltered, and I knew I'd struck a nerve.
The standoff didn't last long. One of Langston's men raised his weapon, and I fired first, hitting him square in the chest.
The clearing erupted into chaos once again, gunfire echoing through the night. I moved quickly, using the trees and wreckage for cover as I tried to stay one step ahead of Langston's men.
But there were too many of them.
A bullet grazed my shoulder, sending a searing pain down my arm. I gritted my teeth, refusing to let it slow me down.
Then I heard it—a low, rumbling sound that sent a chill down my spine.
A helicopter.
I looked up, my heart sinking as the spotlight from the chopper illuminated the forest. Langston had brought in air support.
"End of the line, Ethan!" Langston shouted, his voice amplified by a megaphone.
The chopper's machine gun roared to life, tearing through the trees around me. I dove for cover, my mind racing.
This was it.
Just when I thought all hope was lost, another sound joined the cacophony—a piercing whistle, followed by an explosion that rocked the clearing.
I looked up, stunned, as the chopper spiraled out of control, smoke pouring from its engine. It crashed into the forest with a deafening roar, the flames lighting up the night.
"What the—" Langston's voice was cut off as another explosion erupted near the armored truck, flipping it onto its side.
Out of the shadows, a team of figures emerged, their movements precise and calculated. They wore tactical gear, their faces obscured by masks.
Kestrel's team.
Relief washed over me as they opened fire, cutting down Langston's men with ruthless efficiency.
One of them approached me, extending a gloved hand.
"You're Ethan?" the man asked, his voice muffled by his mask.
I nodded, letting him pull me to my feet.
"We've got orders to get you out of here," he said. "But we need to move—now."
"What about Langston?" I asked, glancing toward the wreckage of the truck.
"Forget him," the man said. "He's not your problem anymore."
I hesitated for a moment, but the sound of approaching sirens snapped me out of it.
I followed the team into the forest, my mind racing. Langston might have been neutralized for now, but I knew this wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
As we disappeared into the night, I couldn't help but wonder if Sophia had made it to safety.
Wherever she was, I just hoped she knew one thing:
I wasn't giving up.
Not on her.
And not on us.