bChapter /bb313 /b

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Miguel popped the hood and jumped out with a toolbox, his silhouette barely visible in the faint moonlight. Maxi followed him, activating its built–in shlight to illuminate the engine.

“Hold it steady,” Miguel muttered to the robot as he leaned into the enginepartment. fn9333 For more chapters visit Find1Novel/fn9333

The desert stretched endlessly around us, silver–blue under the moonlight. Beautiful, in the way that deadly things often are.

“What the hell is that?” Miguel’s voice suddenly cut through the night, tense and alert.

Maxi swiveled instantly, directing its light toward whatever had caught Miguel’s attention. The beam swept across the sand, illuminating nothing but rippling dunes.

Then I saw it–ba /bslight disturbance in the sand’s surface, like something moving beneath it. Within seconds, the disturbance multiplied, spreading outward in concentric circles.

“Miss Morgan,” Miguel called, his voice low and urgent as he drew his sidearm.

I grabbed Selene’s tactical knife from the seat beside me, my fingers wrapping around the familiar weight of the handle.

The sand erupted. Figures in ck tactical gear emerged like demons from the underworld, rising silently from hidden positions. Ten, twelve, fifteen of them–too many to count in the chaos. Their faces were obscured by advanced night–vision masks, bodies encased in lightweight armor that allowed for maximum mobility.

Miguel opened fire immediately, his handgun barking in the silence of the desert night. The first shot went wide as the nearest operative dodged with inhuman speed.

“Fuck!” Miguel cursed, adjusting his aim.

I kicked open the SUV door andunched myself out despite my body’s protests. A wave of dizziness nearly took me down, but I pushed through it, gripping Selene’s knife tighter.

The first operative reached Miguel, moving like a shadow across the sand. Miguel’s second shot missed again. The operative swept Miguel’s legs from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. His gun flew from his grasp,nding uselessly in the sand.

I intercepted the operative before he could finish Miguel off. My knee connected with his sr plexus, the impact sending him flying backward several meters. The force of the blow tore at my wounds, but adrenaline dulled the pain temporarily.

Miguel dove back into the SUV, emerging secondster with the submachine gun. He sprayed suppressive fire, forcing the operatives to scatter and take cover behind the nearby dunes.

“Behind you!” Miguel yelled.

bI /bspun just in time to see another operative lunging at me, a serratedbat knife aimed at my throat. I sidestepped, using his momentum against him. bAs /bhe passed, I drove Selene’s knife between his ribs, twisting it once before yanking it free. Hot blood sprayed bacross /bmy hand as he copsed.

“Get back in the car!” Imanded, but it was toote.

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They were on us now, converging from all sides. Despite my injuries, I moved with lethal precision, my body operating on instinct and decades of training. One operative went down with a crushed trachea. Another lost the use of his arm when I severed key tendons at bthe /belbow. A third caught Selene’s knife in his eye socket.

But there were too many, and I was too damaged. Each movement reopened my wounds, each exertion pushed me closer to copse. Blood soaked through my clothes, leaving dark patches in the sand wherever I stepped.

Seven operativesy dead or disabled around me when my body finally began to give out. My vision swam, darkness encroaching at the edges. I stumbled, catching myself against the SUV’s hood.

A heavy boot connected with my side, sending me tumbling down a sandy slope I hadn’t even realized was there. I rolled uncontrobly, each impact with the ground sending fresh waves of agony through my broken body. When I finally came to a stop at the bottom of the dune, I tried to push myself up, only to find my legs sinking into the ground.

Quicksand. The desert’s silent killer.

I was already knee–deep, the sand greedily pulling me downward. Panic fluttered at the edges of my consciousnessb–/ba rare feeling for me. I forced it down, knowing that struggle would only elerate my descent.

I kept my breathing steady, fighting both pain and the instinctive urge to struggle. Carefully, I leaned forward, distributing my weight across the surface of the quicksand rather than fighting against its pull. Using Selene’s knife as a makeshift anchor, I began to inch my way toward solid ground, one excruciating movement at a time.

Maxi’s smallser activated, briefly blinding one of the operatives who had appeared at the crest of the dune. The distraction bought me precious seconds as I continued my painfully slow escape from the quicksand.

Above me, Miguel had recovered enough to provide covering fire, drawing the operatives‘ attention away from me. The gunfire was sporadicb–/bhe was likely running low on ammunition.

I was almost free when a shadow fell across me. An operative stood at the edge of the quicksand, his tactical knife gleaming in the moonlight. He lunged, the de arcing toward my exposed throat.

I raised Selene’s knife, catching his de with mine. The impact sent shockwaves of pain up my arm, but I held firm. With my free hand, I grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward, off–bnce and unprepared. He toppled face–first into the quicksand beside me.

As he thrashed in panic, bI /bused his body as leverage, pushing myself the rest of the way out of the deadly trap. By the time I dragged myself onto solid ground, he had already disappeared beneath the surface.

I copsed onto my back, coughing blood. My body had reached its limit, every resource depleted. The cool night air burned in my damaged lungs. Sand clung to my blood–soaked clothes, irritating my wounds.

I tried to move but couldn’t. My body had finally shut down, refusing any furthermands. Blood pooled beneath me, staining the sand dark.

Through my fading consciousness, I became aware of approaching vehicles–more bof /bthem this time. Their headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the battlefield our rescue had be. I couldn’t tell if they were friends or enemies, and I no longer had the strength to care.

My ears were ringing, muffling all sound to a distant hum. I stared up at the stars, impossibly bright in the desert sky, wondering if this was finally it. After cheating death so many times, maybe this was where my luck ran out.

The sound of helicopter rotors cut through the ringing in my ears. The wind kicked up, sending sand swirling around me as multiple ck

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Hawks descended from the night sky. Missiles streaked from their mountedunchers, striking the approaching vehicles with devastating precision.

The desert erupted in fire and chaos once more. Through the storm of sand and the flickering light of burning vehicles, a tall figure emerged, running toward me with desperate speed.

Ethan’s face appeared above me, his features contorted with fear and grief. His mouth moved, forming words bI /bcouldn’t hear. His hands hovered over me, afraid to touch, afraid to cause more damage.

*…internal bleeding,” I whispered, focusing all my remaining strength into those vital words. “Need surgery.”

He nodded, carefully lifting me into his arms. The darkness at the edges of my vision closed inb, /bconsuming everything until only Ethan’s face remained, and then even that faded to ck.

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