Page 26 of Saving Noor

“Swede, confirm hostile presence. Six plus, encircling the perimeter. We are compromised.”

He listened to the empty static for a beat, then added, “What’s Warden’s revised ETA?”

Swede’s voice was a calm, clipped thread in his ear. “Warden’s team is twenty minutes out. They are aware and will approach hot.”

Twenty minutes. Link exhaled, the air burning in his lungs. He scanned the room, meeting each pair of eyes. Exhaustion was gone, burned away by a cold, familiar clarity.

“Listen up,” he said, his voice low but carrying absolute authority. “We hold for twenty. This is a defensible position. Shadow—breach the armory cabinet. Jax, you’re on Noor until we move her. Then you’re with me on the front. Tariq, Sammy—you are rear security. On my mark, we relocate non-combatants to the hardened closet.”

His orders were met with sharp nods. Shadow was already at the wall cabinet, twisting the combination lock. It clicked open, revealing the pristine racks of rifles and stacked mags. The sight was a bolt of cold confidence.

As Jax gave Noor’s IV line a final check, Link moved to Sammy. He pressed a spare magazine into the boy’s hand, then gripped his shoulder, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Your sole task is the closet. Nothing gets through that door. Understood?”

Sammy’s eyes, wide with a fear he was mastering, locked onto Link’s. “Understood.”

“Move now,” Link commanded.

The relocation was a blur of efficient motion. Minutes later, Noor, Fatima, and Hassan were secured in the windowless closet, Sammy and Tariq posted as sentinels at the door.

Back in the main room, Link took position beside Shadow at the shattered window. The night outside was still, a held breath.

“Movement out front,” Shadow murmured, his rifle stock snug against his cheek. “They’re getting ready to⁠—”

The night exploded. Glass erupted inward as automatic fire stitched across the front wall. Plaster dust filled the air.

“Return fire! Controlled bursts!” Link shouted, already squeezing off shots at the muzzle flashes in the street. “Jax, watch our three o’clock!”

Down the short hallway, Sammy pressed his back against the wall beside the bedroom door, his breathing controlled. Tariq covered the opposite side, his eye to a crack in the doorframe, watching the dark hallway leading to the side of the house. Their world was the muffled thunder from the front room and the tense silence of their own corridor.

The firefight was brutal and precise through Link’s eyes. He watched as Shadow dropped one attacker with a clean shot. Jax’s voice crackled over the comms: another enemy was going down behind a car. But Faisal’s men were professionals, expertly using cover and advancing in coordinated pairs.

Suddenly, a searing impact slammed into Shadow’s shoulder, spinning him backward. He grunted, a raw sound of pain, but recovered quickly. “I’m good! Winged!” he barked. Link caught the muttered frustration under his breath: “Damn, lucky shot.” Shadow was already back on target, firing relentlessly.

Link’s comm crackled, Swede’s voice replaced by one that was deeper, laced with the thrum of rotor blades. “Link, Warden. We’re fifteen out. Sitrep.”

“Three hostiles remain,” Link reported, his voice steady despite the adrenaline. “Shadow’s hit but functional. Package is secure. Structure is compromised.”

“Copy. Nova has eyes on. Stand by for her welcome,” Warden’s voice was calm, a rock in the chaos.

A moment later, a sharp, singular crack split the air from a different angle—high and distant. One of the remaining men, who had been edging toward the side of the house, crumpled silently.

“One less,” Jax confirmed, shifting his aim.

The remaining two operatives faltered, their disciplined advance breaking into panicked, wild shots. The distant thump-thump-thump of approaching helicopter blades began to vibrate the air.

“We have rotor signature,” Link said into the comm. “Nova, keep them pinned. We’re mobilizing the package.”

“Copy. Path is clear for the next ninety seconds,” Nova’s cool voice replied.

Link turned from the window. “Jax, get Shadow pressure-wrapped, now. We move in sixty.” He then raised his voice toward the hallway. “Tariq! Sammy! Exfil is here. Bring them out, now!”

Inside the bedroom, the door swung open. Tariq emerged first, rifle sweeping the hallway. Sammy followed, helping a dazed Fatima from the closet, while Tariq supported Hassan. Jax, having hastily bound Shadow’s shoulder with a compression bandage from the cache, muttered under his breath, “Winged, my ass. That was a through and through,” before moving past them to gently lift Noor from her nest of blankets.

The team flowed into the main room, a tense, silent river. The helicopter’s roar was deafening now, a promise of salvation just outside the shattered walls.

“Go, go, go!” Link yelled, ushering them toward the reinforced back door.

They burst out into a maelstrom of wind and noise. The sleek, dark helicopter sat in the cleared lot, its side door open, a figure silhouetted within.