CHAPTER 21 - CORPORATE MERCENARIES
The world returned in pieces.
Sound first-distant thudding, like boots over wet earth. Then the rain, steady and cold, tapping against her skin. Then the ache-sharp, blooming across her ribs, her shoulder, the side of her head.
Kira tried to open her eyes.
Darkness swam.
Shapes blurred.
Her stomach lurched as the world tilted and settled again.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been unconscious. Seconds? Minutes? The storm still raged overhead, but she couldn't hear Donovan anymore. No comforting voice calling her name. No arms hauling her back to safety.
Just the rain.
And the approaching footsteps.
Panic punched through the fog in her mind. She forced herself upright, wincing as pain flared in her ribs. Mud clung to her clothes, her palms scraped raw from the fall. Her backpack-thank God-was still strapped to her shoulder.
But the flash drive inside suddenly felt heavier. Deadlier.
They're coming.
Kira blinked against the rain, trying to orient herself. She was at the bottom of a steep slope, half-hidden by fallen branches and a shallow ditch that funneled stormwater through the forest. The slope towered above her, slick and treacherous-she'd never climb it fast enough to escape.
Her pulse hammered.
Up above, a flashlight beam slashed through the trees.
She froze.
"Kira," a voice called out. Not Donovan. Colder. Commanding. "Alive or dead-bring her in."
A mercenary.
She clamped a trembling hand over her mouth, forcing her breathing to quiet. The mud beneath her knees sucked at her clothes, the water icy against her skin. She needed to move. She needed cover. But every muscle protested, and she could barely stay upright.
Another voice echoed overhead. "Tracks lead down the slope. She didn't go far."
Kira's blood turned to ice.
They were hunting her.
Not looking. Hunting.
She scrambled backward into the ditch, slipping on the mud, trying to make herself smaller. The rain drowned out quiet movements-her only advantage. Her ribs screamed with every breath, but fear numbed everything else.
She could hear them now-three, maybe four men-moving in formation, sweeping their flashlights across the slope.
A beam skimmed inches from her foot.
She stiffened, not daring to breathe. The edges of her vision wavered. Don't panic. Don't panic now. She tried to remember Donovan's voice, the way he always sounded in chaos-calm, grounded, sure even when he shouldn't be.
But he wasn't here.
He didn't know where she'd fallen.
And these men did.
Footsteps slid down the mud, closer-too close. She needed to move before they saw her. She glanced down the ditch. It wound deeper into the forest, twisting into darker terrain. Dangerous, yes. Unknown, yes.
But staying here meant dying.
Kira inhaled shakily and crawled forward, using the rain to mask her movements. Her hands splashed quietly in the runoff, her breath clouding in the cold air. She kept low, head down, pushing through branches and wet leaves.
Behind her, one mercenary crouched near the slope, shining his light downward.
"Spread out," he ordered. "She's hurt. She won't get far."
Kira's heart pounded harder.
Move, Kira. Move.
She crawled faster. The ditch narrowed, the mud deeper, the water climbing to her knees. A branch snapped behind her-she froze again.
Boots.
Heavy, deliberate boots landing in the ditch.
He was in the ditch.
She risked a glance over her shoulder.
A mercenary was descending the slope directly into the run-off channel-tall, armed, flashlight cutting through the dark. His eyes trained downward, scanning the ditch like a predator tracking footprints.
He was only twenty feet away.
And closing.
Her breath hitched.
She couldn't outrun him-not injured, not here. She needed cover-anything. Her gaze darted desperately across the muddy bank.
A tangle of fallen branches and an uprooted tree trunk lay just ahead, forming a shallow pocket of darkness beneath the roots. Barely enough space for a person.
But she had to try.
Kira crawled toward it, each movement a battle between pain and fear. The water soaked her through, turning her limbs numb. A branch scraped her cheek, leaving a thin line of warmth that the rain quickly washed away.
Ten feet.
The mercenary descended further.
"She's down here," he called out. "Tracks fresh."
Seven feet.
Kira shoved herself under the fallen tree, the roots scraping against her back. Mud closed around her like cold, wet hands. She pressed herself flat, barely able to breathe.
Three feet.
The beam of his flashlight swept across the mud where she'd been seconds ago.
He paused.
Kira's pulse thundered in her skull.
Please don't see me.
Please don't see me.
Please-
The flashlight swung toward the tree roots.
Her lungs locked.
The beam lingered, illuminating the tangled mass inches above her head. One more inch downward, and he'd see her. She closed her eyes tight, her entire body trembling with terror.
A voice from above shouted, "Stop wasting time down there. The boss wants her alive, not drowned in a ditch."
The mercenary hesitated.
"If she's down here, she won't drown. She'll freeze," he muttered.
But he turned away.
His footsteps began retreating up the ditch.
Kira sagged inwardly, tears burning behind her eyelids. Relief made her dizzy. She stayed still another full minute, listening as the mercenaries regrouped.
"Search the riverbank!"
"Check the south trail!"
"She couldn't have vanished!"
When the last voice faded, Kira finally let herself breathe-shallow, quiet breaths that still hurt her ribs.
She wasn't safe.
But she was alive.
For now.
Rain continued to hammer the forest, masking distant sounds. Kira slowly pushed herself out from beneath the tree roots. Her entire body shook violently-from cold, from pain, from the staggering realization that she had nearly been caught.
Donovan... please be alive. Please be looking for me.
She clutched the edge of the trunk for balance and stood on trembling legs. Her head throbbed. Mud dripped down her forehead. Her clothes clung to her skin like heavy rags.
She turned to follow the ditch deeper, away from the mercenaries.
But before she could take a step-
She heard it.
A sharp click.
Not a branch.
Not a boot.
A weapon.
And then a voice behind her-quiet, close, unmistakably human:
"Don't scream."
Kira froze.
Rain blurred the world, but she didn't need to see the gun to know it was there.
The voice was calm. Too calm.
"Hands where I can see them."
Her heart squeezed painfully. She lifted her hands, slow, trembling.
The figure stepped closer, boots splashing in the ditch water, a silhouette tall and ominous.
Cold metal pressed against the back of her neck.
"You've given us quite a chase, Kira," the man murmured.
Her blood turned to ice.
"We finally have you."
Kira's lungs felt like they had filled with ice. The cold metal pressing against her neck was unforgiving, and the man's breath smelled faintly of smoke and leather. She could feel every heartbeat in her ears-hers, his, the echoing pulse of the storm above.
"Who... what do you want?" she whispered, voice trembling.
The mercenary chuckled low, a sound that made her stomach twist. "The flash drive," he said simply. "And you."
She froze. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."
He pressed the gun a fraction tighter. "Don't play dumb. We know what you took. You have information that doesn't belong to you. Information that ruins lives. And right now, Kira, you're going to hand it over."
She swallowed hard, mud dripping from her hair into her eyes. There was no escape from this narrow ditch-not without a miracle. Not without Donovan.
Her mind raced. The slope behind her was too slick, too steep. The forest around offered little concealment in the driving rain. And the mercenary in front? He was patient, skilled, deliberate. He had trained for this.
Think. Think.
Her fingers tightened on the strap of her backpack. The flash drive. All the evidence was there. If he got it, Donovan's plan, their only chance to expose the empire, would vanish.
"I don't have it," she said, trying to sound firm.
The man tilted his head. "Wrong answer."
A shadow moved behind him-another figure, taller, heavier. Kira stiffened. At least two of them. Maybe more. They were professional. She realized, stomach churning, that these weren't just hired thugs-they were corporate mercenaries, sent to eliminate anyone who threatened their employer.
And now, that threat was her.
Adrenaline surged. She couldn't fight them, not physically. But she could use her mind. Numbers, patterns, sequences-her accounting skills weren't just for spreadsheets. They were survival tools.
Her eyes darted around. The ditch was narrow, but the water was flowing faster here, deeper. If she could make the mercenary slip or misstep... maybe...
"I said give it to me," the first man repeated, voice sharper this time.
Kira acted before she even consciously decided. She dropped her weight suddenly, sliding down the muddy slope toward the side, letting gravity and momentum do the work.
The mercenary cursed, losing balance on the slick ground. Kira twisted mid-slide, letting her elbow connect with his shoulder. The gun wobbled.
"Now!" she shouted instinctively, scrambling toward a shallow crevice under a fallen tree.
The mercenary cursed again and lunged. Kira crawled faster than she thought possible, mud and water coating her like armor. Her mind calculated every movement, every risk, every tiny advantage.
She slipped into the crevice just as a boot slammed down inches from her head. Her back hit the wet earth, her breath gone, her pulse a drum in her ears.
She couldn't see Donovan. Couldn't hear him. Couldn't-she realized with a pang-couldn't even hope he knew where she was.
Footsteps approached the crevice. The first mercenary's face emerged from the shadows. He leaned down, eyes scanning the small hollow.
Kira's hand shot out, grabbing a broken branch from the ground. She swung it wildly-not to hit him, but to startle, to make him hesitate.
The man recoiled, and that was all she needed. She scrambled out of the crevice, slipping into the shadows of the trees. Rain and mud blurred her path, but instinct guided her.
Behind her, she heard shouting-guns being readied. Footsteps crashing through mud and water.
She ran faster than she thought possible.
Then a voice-Donovan's voice-cut through the storm.
"Kira! Over here!"
Relief flooded her, almost enough to make her stop, to throw herself at him. But instinct told her better. She scanned the trees. Above, a thick branch hung low, strong enough to support her weight.
"Climb!" Donovan shouted.
She scrambled up, the mercenaries' shouts growing louder, closer. Mud and rain made her hands slip, but she caught the branch just as bullets thudded into the bark beneath her.
Donovan helped her balance, gripping her arm. "Hold on! Don't look down!"
Her heart raced, nearly bursting. "I almost... I almost-"
"Don't finish that sentence," he interrupted, his voice taut. "We can't afford it."
They perched on the branch, hiding behind the thick leaves, dripping wet and trembling. Below, the mercenaries circled the ditch, scanning, shouting, frustrated.
Kira's chest heaved. "They're... relentless."
Donovan's jaw tightened. "And they'll escalate. We can't stop them-they won't let us."
Her eyes met his. For a moment, the kiss from the barn flashed in her mind. Heat and fear combined. They were alive, yes. But each second spent together, each escape, only deepened the danger-and the unspoken bond between them.
Then, a noise from the far side of the ditch caught her attention-a different sound. Footsteps, but not the mercenaries'. Lighter. Quieter. Calculated.
Donovan noticed it too. His head snapped toward the sound.
"They're not alone," he muttered. "Someone else... watching us."
Kira's stomach dropped. The corporate mercenaries were the first wave. Whoever this was-this new presence-was likely more dangerous.
Before she could react, a figure emerged from the shadows-a man in a black hood, carrying a rifle with a scope.
He paused, scanning. Then, without warning, the rifle clicked.
A silencer.
Her heart nearly stopped.
Donovan shoved her behind the branch, ducking low himself. "Get down! Now!"
The rain lashed at their faces, thunder rolling overhead. Kira could barely think, barely breathe. The mercenaries below had noticed the new figure, but they seemed hesitant, unsure.
And the sniper-or whatever this was-took aim.
Kira squeezed her eyes shut.
Then she heard Donovan whisper, right next to her ear, tense and deadly:
"Hold on, Kira. We're not done yet."
The first shot rang out-not at them, but somewhere else-enough to signal the escalation had begun.
They were surrounded.
And the danger was just getting worse.
