Breaking Through (24 page)

Water and metal
working together isn’t too bad. Even if it is Haskal. He swims on his back, hands thrust out in front of him. With one, he eases our submarine down to the ocean floor, and with the other he keeps the Korean sub from surfacing. My job is to keep him from drowning.

I know when our escape vessel is hidden, because Haskal shoots me a wink. “I like it nice and deep,” he says.

I summon a capillary wave that knocks him under water. I count to three before I pull him back up. He sputters.

“You were saying?” I ask sweetly.

“You’re a bitch.”

“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t it.”

Haskal scowls as he locks back onto the enemy ship below us. “We’re good,” he says, giving me the go ahead.

“Incoming,” I yell loud enough for everyone to hear.

I raise up a large, single wave. It surges, then races forward, scooping Haskal and me up first. One by one the swell picks up crew members, and we bodysurf to shore.

All’s quiet for the ride. Moonlight pours down on us from above, reflecting off the water’s surface. The calm façade, I know, will end soon, but I take a moment to breathe in the air and taste the salt on my lips.

A line of headlights cast their beams up over the sand dunes. Bullets fly through the air, dropping just short of us.

Riley’s voice rings out in my earpiece. “Nautia?”

“I’m on it,” I reply.

I inhale deeply as I command the sea. Whispering to it, coaxing it to do my will. The water obeys, a wall jutting skyward at the beach. Over a mile long and about fifty feet high.

“Haskal,” Riley says, “when Nautia lowers the wall, it’s your turn. Everyone else, prepare to fight.”

He sounds so close, but he’s not. His voice in my ear should be more intimate—sexy and deep. His breath should be lingering on my neck. His grip hugging my waist.

When this is over.

I blow out my exhale, pinning my gaze on the wall of water. As soon as it falls, there’ll be hell to pay.

The wave drops us off and blends back into the ocean. My feet hit sand. A strip of dry land separates me from the wall I created. Haskal stands beside me, waiting for entry. Kray jogs up on the other side and flashes me half a smile.

“Together,” he mouths.

I nod, but I don’t look at him. Once I do this, there’s no going back.

“Anytime, Nautia,” Riley says through the earpiece.

I tick my eyes to the left. He’s all the way at the end of the line, and my heart thuds hard. I run through my fingers, using my thumb to crack each one against my palm.

Then I extend my arm and twist like I’m turning a doorknob. A small whirlpool begins to spin in front of me. It rotates, an opening forming in the center, large enough for Haskal to peer through. He does a quick, calculating scan of what we’re up against before he pulls back. The hole closes.

“Two dozen Jeeps. About a hundred men, all loaded,” he says.

“Can you clean them out?” Riley asks.

“Yeah. But as soon as Nautia takes care of the wall, everyone needs to hit the ground.”

“Copy that?”

A chorus of “Copy” hits my eardrums, and Haskal and I are the only ones left standing.

“All right, partner,” Haskal says. “Let’s give them hell.”

Like I’m opening curtains, I whip both of my hands outward, then I immediately plunge to my stomach. The water follows my direction, breaking apart at the center and circling behind us to merge with the Sea of Japan. Before it finishes its journey, Haskal has confiscated all of the weaponry from our opponents. The pieces sail over us and plop into the ocean. Another whip of his arms, and he crunches the Jeeps like they’re Matchbox cars.

“Save your bullets,” Riley reminds us as Ji-jin’s troops race toward us.

I dig out my knife, the one I used during training. Back then, it felt heavy and unfamiliar in my hand, but today it’s an extension of my body.

Kill or be killed
, I remind myself. I run forward across the beach with Kray right behind me.

One slash across the throat, and the guy coming at me collapses. Unlike in the movies, though, they don’t attack one on one. Three soldiers stop in front of me, death twinkling in their dark eyes.

Then they attack. One goes for my midsection, another for my head, and I can’t see what the third is doing.

“Behind you!” Kray screams.

I’m not fast enough, and the guy rams into my back. I lurch forward with a grunt, the tip of my knife sliding into his buddy’s stomach. One down.

Kray’s fending off a crowd of his own, but he inches closer. I thrust an elbow behind me and make contact with the douchebag who has his arm around my throat. I duck. Kick. Punch. Swing, hitting whatever piece of flesh I can.

“Definitely not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” Kray says.

“Why”—I thrust a knee into douchebag number two’s stomach—“does everyone say that?”

“Seems appropriate.”

With a snap, Kray breaks the neck of his last opponent, then does the same to one of mine. I’m freed enough to spin around and land my knife into the last guy’s chest.

I look around, but there’s no one left to fight. Ivan and Rogers have already started to scale the cliff that leads into Wonsan.

Kray shrugs. “We should keep track of kills. What was that? Two for you? I got eight.”

“Didn’t they do that in some movie?”

“Damn straight. It was awesome. Genius, right there, princess.”

I slug him in the arm and trek across the sand. Gibson sits on a rock, and Britta is hunched over in front of him. She winces, fighting the urge to cry. Riley squats down and examines her shoulder.

“Dislocation,” he says. He pulls out a piece of plastic and sticks it between Britta’s teeth. “On the count of three.”

Placing his hands on her, he counts, “One. Two …”

She screams, the bite stick falling from her mouth. “I thought you were, like, smart. What happened to three?”

“Three was the moment I pushed the bone back into the socket. It’ll be sore, but at least you can use it.” He stands. “Help her up, Gibson.”

“Yeah, Ivan’s almost at the top,” Gibson says, looking at her. “We’ll get Britta up there.”

Riley glances at me, then approaches. For a second I think he’s going to give me an order of some kind, but instead his eyes soften and he wraps me into his arms. He nuzzles my neck.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

“I’m fine,” I answer. I’ve never been happier to feel him close.

He pulls back and gives me a quick onceover.

“Really, I’m okay,” I assure him.

Satisfied, he hugs me to him again. Kisses my head before he lets go. He taps my earpiece. “Use it, all right?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before he takes off to the bottom of the cliff. Haskal and Ackley are halfway up. Ivan and Rogers have already made it to the top, and Gibson has his hands over his head, levitating Britta up to them.

Kray slaps me on the back. “Looks like we’re next, princess.”

Rock climbing. Fun.

Riley gets us started. The top is only fifteen feet up, but the rock holds aren’t solid. No one is to take the same path, in case the person ahead of us has loosened the rocks.

I don’t look up, and I don’t look down. I just climb, concentrating on finding my next foothold. Before I realize I made it that far, Haskal’s hand appears in front of my face, and my own slips from the rock.

“Hang on, there,” Haskal says, grabbing onto my wrist.

I push with my legs, and Haskal lifts me to solid ground. I brush my palms on my pants to give myself a moment to catch my breath. My heart still thuds against my ribs from my near-fall.

“Should I thank you or slug you?” I ask.

“Aw, I’m touched. You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He shoots me a half-grin, then joins the rest of the group congregated under a tree.

I groan out a sigh and follow him. Kray comes up beside me, slips his hand into mine, and squeezes. This is the part where we split up.

Riley and Gibson jog up to us. Gibson whispers something to Britta, and she bobs her head.

“Kray, Britta, Ackley—the hotel-in-progress is straight northwest of here, three-point-five miles. Stick to the shadows, and radio in if there’s trouble,” Riley instructs.

Kray lets go of my hand, his gray eyes momentarily falling on mine. He’s in my head, making sure my plans still include him. As much as I’d like to leave him out of this, I won’t. He’s too determined. He’ll come after me—alone. And I don’t want to think about the consequences of such a stupid decision.

“Keep it that way,” he says, slapping my back again.

I feel Haskal’s gaze on me, but I remain focused on my best friend. His form grows smaller the farther away from me he runs.

“Nautia, Ackley, Ivan, Haskal, and Gibson—we’re heading due west. Time to move.” Riley takes the lead, with Ackley right behind him. Gibson takes the tail, leaving Haskal and me in the middle of the pack. He jogs up and bumps into me to get attention.

“What’s going on with you and Kray?” he says low enough to keep the convo between the two of us.

My eyes flick to him. “Nothing.”

“Uh-huh. I’ve been watching the two of you for a week now, and I know you’re not spending late nights in his room for nookie. So let me ask again: what’s going on with you and Kray?”

“We’re friends, Haskal.”

Haskal’s brows lift to the middle of his forehead. “You two are planning something, and I want in. You owe me, remember?”

“You’re asking me to pay up
now
? While we’re in the middle of the mission? Besides, I don’t remember agreeing to any terms.”

“You got what you wanted from me. That’s agreement enough.”

“The answer is no, Haskal. Pick something else to even out our bargain.”

Haskal’s face lights up. “Aha! So you
are
planning something.”

Shit.

“I didn’t say that,” I push back, frowning.

“That’s the beauty of it, sweetheart. You didn’t have to
say
anything.” He winks at me. “I’ll bet your boyfriend doesn’t know, does he? Maybe I should run up there and tell him you have some sort of moonlighting project.”

I yank on the back of his vest as he darts out in front of me. “God, Haskal. You’re an ass.”

“So I’ve been told.”

I groan. I already hate that Kray’s tagging along, but Haskal too? Seriously? Blackmail’s a bitch.

“Fine,” I give in. “As soon as we get the formula and the sample, Kray and I are taking a detour to Ji-jin’s summer home. It’s where Cara will be, and I’m going to take her down.”

“How do you know she’s here? We’re attacking weeks earlier than scheduled.”

“Because she’s waiting for me. I
know
she is.”

“Perfect. I’m coming with you. Yours isn’t the only life she fucked up.” His voice is low.

I look at him. Really look at him, and I realize there’s more to Haskal and Cara’s deal.

“What does she have on you?” I ask.

“I already told you. Money and a way out of this hellhole life,” he snaps. “Isn’t that enough?”

I should say no, because I don’t believe his story one hundred percent. She has what he wants, and he won’t get it if I kill her first. No, there’s something else.

Riley suddenly signals for to us get down. I drop to the ground, my senses on red alert. I hold my breath and listen.

Rustling. A twig breaks.

With two fingers, he points to the east. Staying low, Gibson and Haskal shuffle in that direction. Riley’s eyes fall on me, and he hesitates. Finally, he signals for me to cover them from the north—as in the tree, two feet behind me.

I creep to the base. Search the trunk for a good hold and climb. Ivan is positioned below me until I make it up. I pass the first few limbs, which are too low for me to see anything, and work my way to one that gives me a good view. I enter the code for night vision on my Digi, and the lens eclipses my sight.

I scan the forest for heat sensors. Red human forms slowly walk in our direction.

“Two dozen. Armed. Coming in from the south,” I com in.

“How far are they from Gibson and Haskal?” Riley asks.

I backtrack until I find them crouched opposite each other, behind some trees. I enter their positions into the Digi. “Two hundred fourteen feet.”

“Make it rain, baby.”

I smile. “My pleasure.”

I lift my head to the clear night sky. Stars shine through the branches, giving off a small amount of light. Enough for me to see my summoned storm clouds roll in. The dark masses block the light, leaving the forest floor dark and brooding. Then the thunder booms, and a crack of lightning zips down a large ash. The tree crashes down in front of the Korean soldiers. Confused shouts ring out.

“Now comes the rain,” I say to myself.

Mentally, I pull the trigger, and a torrent of water cascades from the sky. It gushes down, but only over them.

“Move in,” I radio.

Through the night vision, I watch as Gibson, Haskal, Ivan, Rogers, and Riley race forward, guns trained in front of them. Gibson stops before the other three and raises his arms. Seconds later, red fuzzy human forms fly through the air and slam into trunks.

Gunshots pierce my ears, and I can no longer make out which bodies belong to whom. There’s no point in trying to shoot from here. So I wait. Which may have been Riley’s reason for giving me this job. I’m not sure whether that’s sweet or overprotective.