Andy struggled to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he heard the deafening roar of the jet engines being activated. The sound reverberated through his bones as he looked upon the chaotic scene before him. He could feel it. A frigid coldness, like the piercing bite of burning ice, spread outward from his hip, causing him to clutch his side to prevent the involuntary shiver raking down his back.
Haiden pressed a towel against the wound on the scientist laying just feet from him, the fabric absorbing the warm, blood that spewed from his leg. Thomas desperately rummaged through the open medic container nearby, the clinking of medical supplies echoing in Andy’s now sensitive ears. The metallic scent of blood mingled with the acrid smell of burning flesh left over from the laser swords they carried filled the cabin.
Suddenly, Khan’s voice pierced through the cacophony, filled with grief and desperation. Andy could see the anguish etched on Khan’s face, his eyes searching for Anya. With a surge of adrenaline, Khan lunged for the hatch, his movements desperate and frantic. But before he could reach it, Andy and Elliot swiftly restrained him, their grip firm but compassionate.
“Let me go! We need to go back!” Khan’s voice rang out, his words tinged with desperation. Andy had to raise his voice to be heard over the chaos. “She’s gone, Vincent. She’s gone.”
A mournful wail escaped from Khan’s lips, a keening noise that cut through the air. Andy and Elliot struggled to support the weight of the broken man, their muscles straining as they guided him into one of the jump seats. Khan slumped over, his shoulders shaking with unrestrained grief. Nearby, Alexia, a close friend and their matchmaker, sat beside Khan, her presence offering solace in the midst of the turmoil.
Andy glanced over at Owen, who sat next to the man he saw as the baby-killer. Owen’s hands trembled uncontrollably, the sight of his vulnerability juxtaposed against the chaos surrounding them. Spot, a comforting presence, leaned into Owen, whispering words of solace or prayer. The silver cross that hung down Spot’s neck, clutched in one hand, a testament of his religious devotion.
Andy knew he would need to have a conversation with Owen, so that he could understand the toll these missions require of his men were too overwhelming for the poor kid to bear. The weight of their assignments, the constant threat to their lives, made even him question if he was truly prepared for this team, for the Infiltration Specialist Team. The acronym IST held a deeper meaning, a reminder of the sacrifices they made, and the scarcity of volunteers, but too many have forgotten this in favor of the term ‘Instant Suicide Team,’ and before long volunteers stopped altogether.
Suddenly, a voice pierced through the heavy silence. “Seriously? He’s a grown man. What use is there to mourn an unworthy?” The words echoed in his ears, dripping with disdain. Andy did all he could to prevent his lip from lifting into a sneer.
Thomas, fueled by anger, halted his actions and lunged towards the man. The sound of a scuffle filled the room, accompanied by the sharp gasps of his team witnessing the altercation. Andy swiftly intervened, his movements as swift and precise as a striking snake. He blocked Thomas’ raised fist, his grip firm on the man’s collar, pain slicing down his side. The sensation of tension radiated through Andy’s fingertips, the fabric of the collar rough against his skin.
“Back off. Our mission is to rescue them, not harm them,” Andy’s voice resonated, commanding attention. The words hung in the air. The scent of determination mingled with the metallic tang of adrenaline, filling the room with a heightened sense of urgency.
Suddenly, Haiden’s urgent cry broke through the commotion. “Powell, I need them clamps. NOW!” Both Thomas and Elliot sprang into action, their movements frantic as they rummaged through the medical supplies. The sound of shuffling and clinking filled the room once again as they pulled the clamps to tighten around the scientist’s leg.
At that moment, Andy’s trust in Haiden’s skills as a field medic became evident. His past experience shone through, like a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. The scent of antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of sweat and anxiety.
Andy’s gaze hardened as he seized the baby-killer by the collar, lifting him from the jump seat. The man’s widened eyes met Andy’s piercing gaze, like a deer caught in the headlights. Despite the urgency behind Andy, the man’s faint heart beat ecstatically along his artery, sweat building at his temple.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“I don’t care who the fuck you are,” Andy’s voice growled, a low rumble that caused the man’s neck to bob. The scent of anger hung in the air, like a storm brewing on the horizon. “Insult my team again, and it’s not them you need to fear; it’s me.”
The threat lingered, like a dark cloud ready to unleash its fury. Andy’s grip remained unyielding, his eyes fixed on the man’s head, bobbing like a bobblehead. Clenching his jaw, Andy watched as the man sat down to buckle his jump harness. The sound of the buckle clicking into place was an insignificant victory amidst the chaos, a moment of fleeting peace.
“We’ve got bogies!” Green exclaimed urgently, her voice filled with tension. She sat at the helm seat, her eyes scanning the outside world through the monitors. As Andy glanced toward the various monitors, the sight of the jet-black Trids filled the screens, their sleek frames darting through the sky like deadly predators. There were over fifty fighter jets approaching, possibly more, but the vessel obstructed their full view.
“Shit. There’s got to be a Scraicro on the other side. Why didn’t our sensors pick that up?”
“The hell if I should know.” Andy replied, his voice laced with frustration as he pounded on the cockpit door, the sound reverberating throughout the cabin. Andy wasted no time relaying urgent instructions to the pilot. The urgency and tension in his voice were palpable, as he knew that time was of the essence. The weight of responsibility settled on his shoulders, pushing him to ensure the safety of everyone on board.
“Everyone in your seats.”
Haiden and Andy quickly worked together, their movements filled with a sense of urgency and purpose. They secured the injured scientist as best as they could, their hands brushing against the rough fabric of the jump seat. The pain in Andy’s temples intensified, a throbbing reminder of the imminent danger he faced.
“Andy,” Spot’s voice broke through the chaos, filled with a mixture of concern and frustration. “I can’t get his buckles.” Spot struggled to fasten Owen in, his movements restricted by his own buckles. Andy’s heart raced, his hands steady as he tried to assist. But Owen’s trembling grew more pronounced, spreading, turning into full-body trembling.
The blaring sound of the jump-horn pierced through the air, jolting everyone into action. Andy’s voice shook with urgency as he called out to Owen, desperation fueling his words. He reached out, his hands grasping Owen’s shoulders firmly, the touch grounding them both in the chaos. "Shawn, I need you to focus. Breath." Owen’s gaze met Andy’s, the fear and panic evident in his eyes. The taste of desperation lingered on Andy’s lips as he pleaded with Owen to hold himself together, to find strength in the face of danger.
Time seemed to blur as Andy struggled to secure the buckles around Owen, the urgency guiding his movements. And then Andy’s stomach twisted into a knot, churning within - the jump commenced, violently tossing him across the cabin. The impact was brutal, slamming his back into the unforgiving hatch. Darkness enveloped him, leaving him disoriented and in pain.
As consciousness slowly returned, Andy’s senses were assaulted by a chorus of indistinguishable voices that bled together. The sound seemed to echo and reverberate, amplifying the pain in his head. He lay on his stomach, feeling the gentle hands rocking him above. The scent of antiseptic and blood burned his nostrils, mixing with the metallic taste of blood lingering in his mouth.
Spot’s voice broke through the haze, filled with concern and determination. With the help of Khan, they attempted to turn Andy over, their touch sending waves of discomfort through his body. The revolting smell of stomach fluids filled the air, mingling with the acrid taste of bile at the back of Andy’s throat and on the floor next to him.
Spot’s hand rubbed soothing circles on his back, providing a small measure of comfort amidst the chaos. Khan handed him a container of water, the coolness of the liquid soothing his parched throat. But as he tilted his head back to drink, a sharp, stabbing pain erupted at the base of his skull, causing him to hiss in agony.
“You got quite a shiner back there,” Khan said, his voice tinged with concern. Andy winced, feeling a pulsating pain radiating from the bruise. He mustered a weak smile and replied, “I’ll be ok,” as he gingerly rose from the ground. The sounds of footsteps echoed in his ears as he made his way back to his seat, struggling to maintain his equilibrium. His shirt clung to him, wet, a reminder of the injury he didn’t want his team to notice.
“How did the cargo fair?” Andy asked, his voice strained. The scientists they were transporting, now reduced to mere cargo in his mind. He tried to block out the human element, focusing instead on the mission.
The tension in Green’s shoulders was palpable as she narrowed her eyes toward the baby-killer, disapproval practically radiating off her. “Unfortunately, he still lives.”
Haiden spoke up, his voice a calming presence amidst the chaos, “The other one is unconscious, I’ll sit with him to make sure he is stable.”
“Thank you,” Andy murmured, his words laced with exhaustion. He eased himself back into his seat, careful not to aggravate the growing lump on his head. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his side, causing him to jolt upright. Elliot’s concerned gaze bore into him, fixated on the bleeding wound. “Fucking hell, Andy. You’re bleeding!”
Andy hastily pulled his torn overcoat around himself, trying to conceal the injury. He reassured his team that he was fine, not wanting to burden them further. Haiden offered to take a look, but Andy redirected his attention to the injured scientist, hoping to divert their focus.