Breaking Through

by King, D. Nichole

  “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.

  Five figures rush toward me, and I straighten. Five is a good number; it’s how many I hoped would come back. Still, I stay on guard until I hear Riley’s voice in my earpiece.

  “All clear, Nautia. We need to keep moving.”

  “Yes, sir,” I say, because that’s what everyone else says.

  He’s at the base of the tree when I make it down. He catches me at the waist, gripping tighter than necessary. He doesn’t say anything, though, and when he lets go, he motions for us to keep going.

  We’re on the edge of the city in the middle of the night, and it’s busier than I thought. People walking down alleyways and pedaling bicycles down side streets. We loop around, staying out of sight. The closer we get to the weapons facility, the fewer pedestrians there are to avoid.

  Ackley’s voice sounds into our earpieces. “We’re set up, Captain, but something’s not right. They know we’re here, yet we’ve met no resistance.”

  “Keep your eyes and ears open, Ackley. We may get ambushed,” he answers. He turns to us, his eyes meeting mine.

  We stick to the plan and get into position. I’m sweating, and I smack a mosquito off my neck. I close my eyes and exhale the nervous jitters. The last thing we need right now is me losing control.

  Small drops of water fall onto my skin. I glance up. A small cloud I hadn’t meant to create looms above me. I relax my shoulders and close my eyes again as I concentrate on reining in the tension.

  Warm palms cup my cheeks, forcing me to open my eyes. Golden hazel stares back at me, comforting me with just a look.

  “Focus, Nautia,” he says.

  Then with a puff, I blow the cloud away.

  “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

  Riley’s lips press against my forehead. “It’ll be over soon.”

  I bite my lip, because his words and my response refer to different things.

  “I know.”

  “What do the towers look like, Kray?” I ask after I get confirmation that Ackley is on her way to us.

  “Captain, the towers are empty,” he responds. “The whole facility seems to be evacuated. Over.”

  What the hell?

  I sit on my haunches, processing this. They’ve left a state-of-the-art weapons facility unattended?

  “That’s the only weapons facility they have, right?” Gibson asks.

  “In Wonsan, yeah. It’s their test lab.”

  “We’ve come this far, we might as well finish the job.”

  “This is what we came for,” Haskal says. “Let’s finish this fucker.”

  I take in each determined expression, including Nautia’s. For her, this mission is more than just obtaining our objective. It’s about redeeming Nate. I won’t take that away from her.

  “All right,” I start. “The towers are unoccupied, but we’re taking them out anyway. Haskal, bring ’em down.”

  Haskal stands, extending his arms toward the watchtowers. He hones in on them, then pulls back. Like trees, the towers crash to the ground.

  Haskal smacks his hands together. “Any more requests?”

  “The gate.”

  Haskal laughs, taking the lead. Ackley catches on fast when she shows up and follow us to the south gate. With one swipe of his hand, Haskal has the metal locks snapped in half, and the gates open on their own. We walk up to the facility doors, no opposition, no sign of anyone.

  This is too damn easy.

  “Create an exit first,” I tell Haskal when he reaches for the door.

  He twists. Chain-link fence unravels from the posts behind us. The chink of metal echoes through the night sky, but I don’t care about noise now.

  “Got anything, Kray?” I ask.

  “Zilch. I don’t like this, Captain.”

  I don’t either. “Copy that.”

  “Weapons out.” I look at Haskal, my hand resting on a grenade in my pouch. “Open it slowly.”

  Haskal steadies his palm over the lock until it clicks. He steps back so I’m right beside him. I shoot a quick glance at Nautia to find her position. She’s in the back next to Ivan. Good.

  I nod at Haskal, giving him the go ahead. He turns his wrist, and the doorknob twists. Hinges creak.

  I punch the flashlight code into my Digi, igniting the teams’, and point at the warehouse entrance.

  Cardboard boxes line the north wall. My light reflects off the polished cement floor as I walk inside. Rogers and Ackley are at my sides now, Glocks aimed in front of them. They see what I do—

  Nothing.

  Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

  “This can’t be right, Captain,” Ackley says. “Did they move all their shit somewhere else?”

  I don’t have an answer, so I signal for the rest of the team to enter. Eyes wide, Nautia walks up the center and stops beside me. She flashes her light around the room, scanning the stacks of boxes. The upper corners. The empty walls. She lingers for a moment on a drain in the middle of the floor before she walks toward it. I stay right behind her, my eyes not trusting what they see.

  Nautia squats down and circles a fingertip around the metal drain cover. She places her hand over it, concentrating. Water bubbles up and seeps over the floor.

  Then she stands up, facing a door on the west wall. “Through there.”

  She’s in the lead, and I don’t like it. But somehow she knows this place like she’s been here—in Wonsan—before.

  “Ackley and Rogers, you cover us from this room,” I say. “Everyone else, with us.”

  Nautia doesn’t hesitate. She just throws open the door and walks through. I expect this second room to resemble the first, but it doesn’t. It’s set up strangely close to the simulation. Work labs on either side of the room hum with electricity. Small red lights blink from the computers. Each station has a glass tank of water, and, above them, a large macrometallium shell suspended by cables.

  Still, we’re alone.

  Nautia runs down the center aisle.

  “Nautia!” I yell after her.

  She doesn’t stop. Her focus is on a specific station: the second to last on the left-hand side. This is the one she went to during each simulation as well, and I never questioned it. But now, with the uncertainty of the situation, I’d rather not be this far away from the exit.

  “Nautia,” I say when I catch up to her. “The ones closer to—”

  “Can’t. Has to be this one.” Her fingers move over the keyboard, eyes on the screen.

  “Why?”

  “Because this one is mine.”

  “What do you mean it’s yours?”

  She inserts the flash drive and starts copying files. “I mean, it’s mine. The passwords, the login, everything. They belong to me.”

  I stare at her, confused.

  She enters a code into the computer, and the cables lower the metal shell to the tank. As it comes closer, the light from my Digi reflects off something shiny. This one isn’t bare like the rest in the room. No, it’s covered in pink gel—hydroplexasma.

  “Haskal,” Nautia says. “Get the samples.”

  She tosses him two vials. He pulls out a knif
e, and when the torpedo is close enough, he slices off two small pieces. One for each tube.

  “Two minutes, and we’ll have the files,” she says.

  “Nautia, what’s going on?” I prompt. “You’ve never been here before. How does this computer belong to you?”

  She bites her lip, a sign she’s debating how much information she wants to divulge. I’m going to get it all.

  “This is a mouse trap, and the mouse they’re looking for is me. So as soon as I give you the files, you run. Get everyone out of here as fast as possible.”

  “I will. Including you.”

  “I’ll be right behind you. I promise,” she says, but the slight shift in her eyes tells me she’s lying.

  “I’m not leaving without you,” I say firmly.

  “If you want anyone to get out of this alive, you will leave without me, Riley. We have a responsibility. Isn’t that what you told me? Yours is to make sure this mission succeeds. So make it succeed.”

  I grab her shoulders and squeeze. Stare into her eyes. “How do you know they’re looking for you, Nautia? What aren’t you telling me?”

  Her nostrils flare. “The wall in my head is gone. I remember everything. What happened in TorpMissionOne—the connection with the nightmares about Nate—isn’t because I’m his twin.”

  I stare at her. Her eyes glisten with extra moisture. “He’s not your brother?”

  Barely moving it, she shakes her head. “No. Because Nate never existed. Riley…

  “I’m Nate.”

  Riley doesn’t have time to react to what I just told him. When the files finish downloading, a ticking noise breaks the silence.

  “Bomb.” Riley’s voice is calm.

  Haskal’s, though? “Holy fuck! They planted a goddamn bomb in their own warehouse?”

  “Ackley. Rogers. Get out, now!” Riley radios.

  “No shit. We all need to get out,” Haskal counters.

  “You won’t make it,” I say, nodding at the countdown clock that appears on the computer screen. I summon the water that’s been pouring out of the drain since we arrived. Form it into a large, hollow ball. “Get in. The walls are thick.”

  Riley’s gaze bores into me. “You first.”

  “We don’t have time for this!” I bellow, fear building within me.

  Clouds form above us. Thunder booms.

  “Then get. In. The damn. Bubble,” he growls.

  Lightning cracks, and a downpour erupts around us.

  “I can’t get you out of here unless—”

  The force of the explosion blows Riley and me into the water sphere. The ball shrinks and the walls thicken with rainwater to protect us.

  I’m dizzy. My ears ring, and I can’t hear what Riley is saying to me. I squint at him. Shake my head. He puts an arm around me and points to the metal beams above us.

  And I understand.

  If they fall, we’re toast.

  A closer look, though, and I notice they’re moving. Lowering.

  I glance at Haskal. Sweat drips into his eyes as he works to reposition the beams. Beside him, Gibson rearranges the wood and plastic debris.

  I scan what’s left of the room. Korean guards have deactivated the sprinkler system, but the water in the tanks slither toward the center drain. I focus on the small streams and will them to change course. They obey, circling the drain and running to replenish the sphere. It buys a little more time.

  Static resonates in my eardrum, pieces of Kray’s voice slinking through my earpiece. “Naut…coming… safe.”

  Haskal has the beams touching the top of the ball now. With a thrust forward, he hurls them through the west wall.

  “Viola. An escape hatch.” Haskal grins and motions to me in a your-turn gesture.

  I consider my options. I can’t roll it from the inside. Nor can I float it out with all of the weight. Which leaves me with one choice.

  “On the count of three, everyone run,” I say, nodding to the newly made hole. “One…two…three!”

  I throw my arms out to the sides. The ball splits in half, and I part the Red Sea. On both sides of us, water blocks the flames from licking at our heels. Even so, the heat trapped in the room burns my skin.

  We cover our heads as we run. At the makeshift door, I dive forward just before a wooden post loses grip and crashes behind me. I scramble to my feet, Riley helping me regain balance.

  Taking the lead, Haskal tears down the chain-link fence on the west side with a swipe of his hand. He hails a left, into the stand of trees, heading for our rendezvous point. Kray and I had planned to break away before that, but that was before the explosion. He doesn’t even know I’m alive.

  So I follow.

  “Kray? You there?” I radio.

  Static.

  Riley’s attention snaps to me as he runs beside me. I don’t look back. A mile in, our Digis beep, and we stop. This is the place.

  But its empty.

  “Where’s Ackley? Rogers?” Ivan asks.

  “Or Kray and Britta?” Gibson adds.

  “Kray? Copy if you can hear me,” Riley tries. He waits a few seconds. “Copy if you can hear me, Kray.”

  More seconds pass, and no answer.

  “Ackley? Rogers? Britta? Copy?”

  Haskal’s gaze darts to us. “How long do we wait?” he asks, and I’m not sure whether he’s talking to me or Riley. But it’s Riley who replies. “They probably think we’re dead. We should get back to the beach.”

  “Maybe that’s where they went,” Ivan suggests.

  “No,” Gibson says. “They wouldn’t have strayed from the plan. They’d be here.”

  “We are here,” Kray says, rushing toward us, and I’ve never been happier in my life to see his uncombed dirty blond head. Britta runs behind him, stopping when she reaches us.

  She hunches over, breathless. “Ackley and Rogers are dead. Their Digi sensors flatlined just before the explosion. I think there were some soldiers waiting outside the entrance in case someone survived.”

  “Shit,” Riley mutters, sweeping a hand through his hair.

  “How did you survive?” she asks.

  “Quick thinking on Nautia’s part,” Riley answers.

  “Clearly the simulation forgot about this scenario.” Kray hugs me to his side. Plants a kiss on my temple. “Nice work there, princess.”

  Even as he says it, I feel him shuffling around in my brain. He glances at Haskal and slips out a groan.

  Riley resets his Digi. “We’re all accounted for. Let’s get of here.”

  He hurries up between Ivan and Gibson to take the lead. As they start moving away from us, I elbow Kray. I cock my head in the opposite direction. He shakes his and points at Riley’s back.

  “Not yet,” he whispers and yanks my arm.

  “Why?” I mouth.

  “I read thoughts, remember?”

  We fall in line, bringing up the rear. Haskal shoots me a wink as he strategically butts his way right in front of Kray to keep an eye on me as promised. Lovely.

  From his number one position, Riley peers over his shoulder every few seconds. His gaze meets mine, then he turns back around, satisfied.

  I’m stuck.

  I run along, playing follow-the-leader while my mind races. I’m wasting time. Ji-jin’s palace is five miles north of here, and the cover of darkness is going to fade soon.

  I don’t know how far we’ve gone in the wrong direction from where I want to go, when someone jerks me backwards. I fall to my knees, and Kray’s face is in mine, his index finger over his lips. Beside him, Haskal peeks around some shrubbery. He snaps back and gives me a thumbs up.

  Kray points northward, and we take off running. As we go, we shed our heavy vests and slip off our Digis. We stomp on the tracking devices until the light blinks off. According t
he system, we’re now dead.

  “I thought Riley could block you,” I pant out. “How’d you know he’d keep checking on me?”

  “I didn’t read his thoughts; I read Gibson’s.”

  “Gibson’s?”

  “Riley’s got something up his sleeve. He transferred Digi command to Gibson.”

  “Why?”

  “Gibson doesn’t even know. He’s just following orders.”

  I look at Kray, but I don’t respond. I pick up speed. Racing between trees and over fallen limbs like I’m on a track instead of the backwoods of North Korea. Sticky, humid air clings to my neck and seeps into my lungs.

  Before us, Ji-jin’s palace rises up into the night. The place is a fortress. White marble columns protrude from moonlit gardens, giving the home a mausoleum feel. One majestic gate with two guards solidifies the claim, and it’s just my luck that Yun enjoys a lovely ocean view.

  “Nice digs,” Haskal says.

  I grin. “You should see the inside.”

  “The midnight tour is probably over. Guess I’ll have to settle for the private one.”

  My plan is simple. No games. No tricks. No Charlie’s Angels shit. Cara wants me, but I’m praying she’ll leave Haskal and Kray alone.

  From the shadows, Haskal hones onto the two guards’ weapons. A small tug, and guns, knives, and ammo line drive into Haskal’s hands. But instead of being in shock, the guards move closer together and watch our approach.

  “You must be Nautia Olson, correct?” one says in English.

  I remain silent.

  “Miss Prior has been expecting you.”

  The other guard enters a code into the keypad, then leans in for a retina scan. The gate opens just enough to allow us entrance.

  “This way, please,” the first guard says.

  “He’s letting us keep these?” Haskal whispers to me, showing his Glock.

  “Cara says you may remain armed, to make you more at ease,” the guard replies.

  Kray focuses on the back the man’s head as we walk through the garden. Finally, he stares at me.

  “Blocked,” he mouths.

  Strange.

  We follow the guard up the marble staircase to the double ivory doors that stand two stories high. Inside, I don’t bother looking around, because I couldn’t care less. Instead, I consider Cara’s next move. So far, I’ve been right in my assessment: she’s a chess player. Every move she makes is for a reason. She knows who she’s playing with too. She’s played me before.