CHAPTER 34

Infiltration

The acrid scent of smoke and blood clung to the underground corridors. The walls trembled with distant explosions as the Resistance scrambled to evacuate, our sanctuary crumbling around us. Every breath felt like a countdown to disaster.

But I didn't have time to think about the war outside.

Not when the real battle was right in front of me.

The traitor knelt before me, hands bound behind his back, face streaked with sweat and soot. His name was Desmond—one of ours, or so I had thought. A man I had fought beside, trusted. Now he sat in a cold metal chair, breathing raggedly, eyes darting between me and Riley.

He knew what was coming.

Riley paced behind me like a caged predator, her fingers twitching near the knife strapped to her belt. Her fury radiated off her in waves, barely contained.

"Talk," I ordered, my voice a low growl.

Desmond swallowed hard, but his lips remained sealed.

Riley scoffed. "You don't get to play silent now, Des. Not after the bodies we lost tonight."

His eyes flickered with something—regret, maybe—but it wasn't enough. Not even close.

I crouched down, gripping his chin between my fingers, forcing him to meet my gaze. "You gave us up. Tell me why."

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

Then, a smirk ghosted across his lips.

"You don't understand, do you?" His voice was hoarse, but laced with something that sent a cold shiver down my spine. "Julian knows you're here. He's coming."

The air seemed to drain from the room.

Riley moved fast, yanking her knife free, pressing the blade to his throat. "You think that's news to us?" she spat. "We already knew we were compromised. We just needed to know who sold us out."

Desmond didn't flinch. "Then you also know you're too late."

My stomach twisted.

I grabbed the radio strapped to my belt. "Tech, report. Do we have eyes on enemy movement?"

Static.

Then a voice, breathless and shaken. "They're close. Too close."

Damn it.

I turned back to Desmond, my grip tightening on his collar. "How long do we have?"

His smirk deepened, like he was savoring this moment. "Not long enough."

The next second, Riley's blade sliced through his cheek, drawing a sharp hiss of pain.

"Wrong answer," she snapped. "How. Long?"

His breath shuddered, but he still had the nerve to chuckle. "Hours. Maybe less."

The ground beneath us rumbled, the distant sound of gunfire echoing through the tunnels.

Less.

I exhaled slowly, my mind racing. "We have to move. Now."

Riley's nostrils flared. "And what about him?"

Desmond's smirk vanished.

My fingers twitched over the handle of my gun. Killing him wouldn't change the betrayal. Wouldn't bring back the people we'd already lost. But letting him go? That was a mistake I wouldn't make twice.

I raised my weapon.

Desmond's breath hitched. "Nathan—"

The shot rang out before he could finish.

His body slumped forward, dead weight in the chair.

Riley wiped the blood from her knife, expression unreadable. "About time."

I forced myself to breathe. There was no time for guilt. No time for regret.

I turned to the radio. "Jude, status?"

A second of static, then—"We're barely holding the perimeter. We can't hold much longer."

"We're evacuating," I said. "Fall back and meet at the secondary extraction point."

Riley arched a brow. "And if they cut us off?"

"Then we don't let them."

---

The evacuation was chaos.

People ran in every direction, gathering supplies, weapons, whatever they could carry. The air was thick with fear, with the knowledge that our home—our last safe place—was gone.

I pushed through the crowd, barking orders, forcing myself to stay steady. If I faltered, they would too.

Jude met me near the south entrance, rifle slung over his shoulder. His face was grim. "Scouts spotted enemy movement on both sides. We're boxed in."

Of course we were.

"Options?" I asked, scanning the tunnels.

Jude exhaled. "We could split up. Smaller groups have a better chance of slipping past their lines."

I hated it. Splitting up meant fewer numbers, fewer defenses. But it was better than being slaughtered in one place.

"Do it," I said. "Radio silence until we're clear. Regroup at the fallback point."

Jude gave a sharp nod before disappearing into the chaos.

I turned to Riley. "Get your team moving. I'll cover the rear."

She hesitated. "Nathan—"

"Go."

She clenched her jaw, then spun on her heel, disappearing into the tunnels with her unit.

I stayed behind, gripping my gun, listening. The enemy was close. I could feel it.

Then I heard it.

Footsteps. Dozens of them.

I raised my weapon, heart pounding. The tunnel ahead was pitch black, shadows shifting.

And then—

A voice, smooth and mocking, echoed through the darkness.

"Running, Nathan? That's not like you."

My grip tightened. "Julian."

He stepped forward, flanked by his men. He looked the same—too polished, too composed, his dark suit completely out of place in the ruins of war.

"You've lost," he said simply. "Surrender now, and I'll make it painless."

I scoffed. "That's the best offer you've got?"

Julian smiled, slow and knowing. "You're running out of allies."

The words hit harder than I wanted to admit.

But I didn't let it show.

Instead, I smirked. "Then I guess I'll have to make do."

And then I fired.

The shot cracked through the tunnel, and the world exploded into chaos.

I turned and ran, gunfire ringing behind me. I didn't look back. I couldn't.

The Resistance was scattered. We had no base. No home.

And now—

I was running out of time.