Chapter Forty

Zella Mills - Solaria Del Sur, Naguela

Navigating the back streets felt like being lost in a labyrinth. Narrow pathways that zig-zagged parted the buildings. A GPS app wasn’t an option. Her instincts would guide her.

Zella could hear the sounds of gunfire on the main street. I knew this festival was a dumb idea.

A piercing scream came from the neighboring alley, followed by panicked, unmeasured footsteps. Zella positioned herself at the corner wall, peering around the side as she heard another set of footsteps. An Estrean gunman in a bulletproof vest, holding a P90, followed the person who had fled. Zella popped out of her position and fired, aiming above his kneepads. The man sprayed his weapon in her direction during his descent to the ground, forcing her back into cover. She peered at the adjacent building to her left, measuring the distance. The sound of movement caught her ear, the clicking of the P90 and the groans as the gunman struggled to his feet.

Zella placed the briefcase down. She popped out of cover and put more lead into him, aiming for his arms this time. She landed her shots, causing the man to tumble back to the ground, screaming. If she wanted to, she could approach and kill him, preventing him from causing further harm, but she had to get rid of this briefcase as soon as possible. She opted to seize his P90, holstering her pistol for a moment. And then, she dismantled the P90, pocketing its ammo. She tossed the barrel up the alleyway and slid the empty magazine into the leg pocket of her combat pants. The man cursed her; she ignored him. She thought of interrogating him, wondering what compelled them to attack so many innocents, but she decided it was pointless. The man was following orders given by his superiors, and it wasn’t her place to question him. The most important thing she could do was get the briefcase out of her possession. Then she’d be free to help more civilians.

With her 40 Cal in hand, Zella swiftly retrieved the briefcase, determined to keep it secure as she made her way toward the Apollo carriageway.

A Naguelean aircraft soared through the air. About time, she thought, remembering the air defenses she had seen the day before. Her earpiece buzzed, and she used her gun hand to tap the button on her ear.

“Head for the canal,” Raul said. “Hurry, Zella.”

“Coming.” She had seen the canal the day before. It was a small waterway with a footbridge connecting two sides of the street. She had a rough idea of the general direction.

*

Civilians desperate to cross the footbridge crowded the waterway. On the other side of the bridge, armored friendlies helped civilians to safety. Medics were off to one side, treating the wounded. Zella was pleased that Naguelean forces responded swiftly to the attack after what happened at Costaluna.

Raul caught her eye from the other side of the bridge, waving at her from the pavement. Zella holstered her firearm. First, she held a finger in the air, and then she pointed at the civilians passing across the footbridge, signaling to him that she’d wait until the bridge was clear to cross over.

Raul swiped a finger across his neck and shook his head repeatedly. He pointed at her side of the pavement and mimicked the action of throwing. She obliged him, stepping over to the edge of the pavement until she was facing him. Only the dark, murky water separated them.

Raul held his arms out. “You remember how to throw, right, Z?”

A memory flashed in her mind of Raul showing up at Dr. Calloway’s compound. She had been outside shooting her basketball from the three-point line. Raul had been coming to collect money from her father, but he’d spent twenty minutes playing ball with her. By the time her father came out to pay him, Raul was sweating and cursing about how Calloway was feeding her enhancement drugs. It was all fun and games, but Raul did not know how close to the truth he had been.

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“Vamos!” Raul called. She leaned sideways and hurled the briefcase into the air. Raul caught it cleanly between both hands. He saluted her, and she nodded her approval.

Zella took a deep breath, the stench of stagnant canal water filling her nostrils. She felt a weight lifted off her chest now that she was no longer responsible for the EnigmaCore prototype.

Her eyes followed Raul. She replaced her 40 cal’s magazine as she watched him. He was speaking loudly, communicating with his people via a headset. When Raul turned a corner to escape up a pathway, the sharp crack of a 38 caliber pistol echoed across the canal. Zella aimed her weapon with two hands, searching for the source of fire. It wasn’t until she saw Raul’s body collapse at the edge of the pathway that she realized the truth. Someone had been waiting for him to receive the prototype.

She dashed across the footbridge, dodging people as they fled the sounds of gunfire. “Excuse me,” she said, bolting through the middle of a couple with their arms linked, forcing them to separate. She ran to Raul’s side. He was leaning himself up against the wall, so she assisted him. “Where did it hit?” she asked him.

Raul growled, his hand pressing against the lower region of his belly.

A stranger with a graying beard approached them. “Are you okay, sir? I am a doctor.”

Raul looked Zella in the eyes. “Z, go get that bastard. The Estreans can’t have it. Bring me the EnigmaCore.”

“But—”

“Go!”

Zella got back on her feet and ran up the pathway, listening desperately for hurried footsteps. Combat squads made callouts in the distance, shortly before gunfire erupted. The sounds were too far away to engage whoever had snatched the prototype. A vehicle pulled up somewhere on the other side of the building to her right.

“¡Venir!” someone called out.

She heard movement up the pathway. A man in combat attire darted across the path fifteen meters away. He was carrying the briefcase. Zella cut around the building to her right, hoping to catch him off guard before he could reach his pickup vehicle. Unfortunately for her, the vehicle was too close, and she had caught sight of him too late. Catching him on foot was not possible. By the time she reached the road, the man was approaching a military SUV. Several well-equipped men stood beside, waiting for the thief to enter with the payload.

She raised her gun with two hands, aiming directly at the thief’s arm as he approached the vehicle. Making the shot would be easy, but she knew the likelihood of her getting close enough to retrieve the briefcase was low. These men had submachine guns and rifles. She was confident enough to engage a single rifle-carrying gunman with just her pistol. But in this case, she was seriously out-gunned.

A man inside the vehicle spotted her. “Hostile, two-o-clock!”

She darted to the side of the building before shots fired, her heart racing. She heard the doors slam shut. The vehicle was moving. She sprinted across the alleyway, fleeing from their sightlines as they drove by. Bullets followed her, but she could tell by the spreads that they did not know where she’d fled.

“Shit,” she said, moving swiftly through the alleys, her head on a swivel. The prototype was gone, she could do nothing about it now.

*

By the time she made it back to the canal, Raul was sat up on a gurney, his wounds being treated. “Where is it?” he asked as soon as she entered his sight.

“I’m sorry. But-”

“Don’t tell me you let it get away,” he snapped.

"There were more of them than me!" she yelled back, waving her hands as she spoke. “He had backup waiting in an SUV.”

Raul was silent. He went into his pocket and pulled a cigarette as the medic patched him up, the disappointment clear on his face. “We’re screwed. I hope you know that.”

“I did what you wanted,” she said, pacing left and right. “I got it back from Chi and put it back into your hands. Do you know how hard that was to do in this warzone? Whatever happened after that was out of my control, so spare me your chastising.”

Raul waved her away and smoked his cigarette.

Zella stormed across the footbridge without another word. She’d never felt more alone. There was no Khloe or Joe to console her over comms. Given the severity of this attack, she felt offended that they hadn't at least called her by now. Did one stupid kiss diminish any care or concern for her wellbeing?

She pulled her phone from her pocket, seeing several missed calls. One from Chi, two from Tay, four from Lola. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed the missed call from Marina. Finally, she thought. Of all the calls, Marina was the person she most wanted to hear from. She immediately dialed the number back.

The call was connected after three rings. “Zella!” Marina cried.

“Marina? What’s wrong?” Zella asked, hearing the distress in her voice.

A voice answered her not belonging to Marina.

“Zella Mills…I told you I would find you, didn’t I?”

“Who-” She cut herself off, realizing she already knew the answer to the question. “I swear to you, if you hurt her-”

Quinn responded with a menacing laugh. “Worried we’ll do her like Calloway? Hmm? I think we’re already even on the scoreboards. Zip’s life for Calloway’s. In that case, I won’t hurt her. As long as I get you in her place.”

“Where are you?”

“The same place where I killed him. The same place where he groomed you, my serum sis. Get to the airport. I have a jet waiting for you.”

The line went dead. Zella’s arm fell by her side. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stood paralyzed in disbelief.