Eventually, the chaos died down.
Mostly because everyone was too tired to keep flinging each other into puddles.
The lanterns around the camp burned lower now, casting soft halos of light over the compound. The air had cooled, and the jungle quieted as if it, too, was waiting for tomorrow.
The boys finally pulled themselves together—mud-soaked, shirtless, and still grinning like idiots.
Lily made them line up at the medical tent, tossing them towels and muttering curses under her breath as she healed minor scrapes and flicked mud off their faces with glowing hands.
"You're lucky you're cute," she grumbled at Jeffrie, shoving a towel into his chest.
Jeffrie gave her a tired grin. "I aim to please."
One by one, they cleaned up, dried off, and changed into light gear for the night.
Then, slowly, naturally, everyone drifted toward the ones they held closest.
Ray plopped down beside Nyah and Camila near their cot, throwing an arm around each. "No more death speeches. Just sleep."
Nyah kissed his temple. "And no snoring."
"No promises."
Trice found Naomi already curled up on a hammock and climbed in behind her. Izzy joined from the other side, kicking off her boots before settling in against his chest.
"You stink," Izzy mumbled.
"Battle musk," Trice replied.
Naomi elbowed him. "We watched you roll in dirt."
"Tactical dirt," he whispered.
Jeffrie made his way toward the fire again, rubbing a towel through his hair—now dry but sticking up wildly.
He didn't even have to look.
Scarlett, Sophia, Lily, Azul, and Raven were already there—waiting.
Scarlett tugged him down beside her by the waistband of his pants. "Try to get tackled again and see if I don't join in next time."
Jeffrie laughed softly. "I welcome the challenge."
Azul handed him a dry blanket without a word, but the look in her eyes said everything.
He wrapped it around his shoulders, then stretched it open. "Room for five."
Sophia rolled her eyes. "You're insufferable."
But she sat beside him anyway.
Lily curled up at his side, head on his shoulder. Scarlett leaned into his other arm. Raven took her usual spot at his back like a shadow. Azul nestled in last, warm and quiet.
And just like that, they all fell into place.
No one said anything more.
No orders.
No tension.
No fear.
Just breathing.
Just warmth.
Just the kind of silence that only came after a storm of laughter and love.
Tomorrow, the world would demand everything of them.
But tonight?
Tonight, they had each other.
And that was enough.
The Next Morning
The jungle woke before the sun.
Chirping insects gave way to birdsong. The low hum of generators stirred back to life. A distant branch cracked—something small, something wild—but everyone in the compound felt it like a signal.
Time was up.
Jeffrie opened his eyes first.
He hadn't really slept—more like hovered in that space between alert and dreaming. The kind where your body rests, but your mind counts seconds.
The girls were still close around him, breathing slow, steady. Lily had shifted sometime in the night, her hand resting over his chest. Scarlett's fingers were still loosely curled in his blanket. Sophia had tucked herself just far enough to watch the shadows.
He didn't wake them yet.
He just sat up, quietly, taking in the last few minutes of stillness. Mist rolled low through the trees beyond the wire fence. The fire pit had gone out, leaving nothing but faint smoke and the smell of burned wood and earth.
Footsteps approached—quiet, familiar.
Ray.
Then Trice.
Both were already geared up, dressed in matte black light armor, weapons checked, holsters strapped tight.
"Morning," Ray said, voice low but easy. "Coffee?"
Jeffrie took the steaming tin cup and nodded. "Thanks."
Trice squatted near the dying fire, checking his wrist scanner. "Recon drone reports no movement near the northeast ridge. Jungle's still clear."
"For now," Jeffrie murmured.
He took a long sip and let the heat settle in his chest.
Behind him, soft rustles told him the girls were starting to wake. Azul stretched first, silent as always, already scanning her tablet. Raven stood in a single smooth motion, like she'd been awake for hours.
One by one, the rest rose—some quiet, some yawning, all slipping effortlessly into mission mode.
Lily tightened her gloves.
Camila laced her boots with military precision.
Nyah was already checking comm frequencies, and Naomi double-checked ammo counts without being asked.
Sophia met Jeffrie's eyes.
No smile.
Just a nod.
He returned it.
Then he stood, full height, his presence steadying them like gravity itself.
"Gear up," he said, voice clear now. "We move in twenty. This isn't a drill."
Nobody hesitated.
No one needed a reminder of what was at stake.
They'd had their laughs, their tears, their rest.
Now it was time to go to war.
The base was alive with quiet movement. Some were finalizing their gear, others stealing a rare moment to breathe before deployment. The hum of voices filled the halls—strategy discussions, final checks, quiet anticipation.
Jeffrie leaned against the railing overlooking the hangar, watching as helicopter crews prepared for the next round of extractions. The past few hours had been relentless, and there was no stopping now. His thoughts drifted to the people they had yet to save. Four down. Eleven more to go.
In the common area, Ray sat at a table, cleaning his weapon with slow, methodical movements. Trice was next to him, tossing a knife between his fingers, his mind clearly running through his own mission strategy. The quiet between them was familiar, but the weight of responsibility lingered.
Across the room, Azul cross-checked intel with Raven, both standing over a wall of flickering screens. Data streams cascaded in real-time—target movement, thermal maps, encrypted transmissions.
Raven sipped her coffee, unmoved by the chaos on screen. Her eyes tracked everything, missing nothing.
"Everything checks out," Azul muttered, fingers tapping faster now. "But we won't know what's waiting for us until we're already in it."
Raven nodded once, calm as ever. "Then we hit first. Fast and hard."
In the med bay, Lily wrapped up the last of the post-op treatments from the previous mission. Her gloves were stained, hair tied back, sleeves rolled to her elbows.
Luis Vega, freshly patched and freshly cocky, flexed his fingers and looked her way.
"How bad is it?"
Lily gave him a look, smirking as she stripped her gloves. "You won't die. But maybe try not to get shot again?"
Luis laughed—but quieter this time. "No promises, doc."
Lily moved on without missing a beat. "Didn't think so."
Outside, the air was charged.
Scarlett and Sophia moved through warmups, bodies loose but alert, their eyes sharp. The kind of calm that came just before the violence.
Further down the yard, Camila, Isabella, Naomi, and Nyah checked gear one last time—magazines snapped in, blades adjusted, helmets tightened.
A few shared a look.
No jokes this time.
Just understanding.
This was their life now.
Always waiting for the next war to start.
Inside, the lighting dimmed slightly as the countdown on the mission timer hit its final mark.
The energy in the base shifted—
Like air just before a storm.
On the upper level, Jeffrie finally pushed off the railing, jaw tight, gaze locked forward.
Ray was already stepping beside him, cracking his knuckles with a grin that didn't reach his eyes.
Trice met them at the bottom of the stairs, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted his gear.
No words were exchanged.
None needed.
This was it.
The final breath before the fire.
Trice stood at the weapons bench, methodically checking his gear. His expression was unreadable as he loaded magazines and secured his knives in their holsters. This mission was personal—two men to retrieve, two brothers lost in the chaos of war: Sergei Volkov and Tobias "Toby" Grayson.
Jeffrie and Ray approached from behind, their presence casual but their intent clear.
"You sure you don't need backup?" Jeffrie asked, crossing his arms.
Trice smirked, not looking up. "You trying to say I can't handle two targets on my own?"
Ray chuckled. "Nah, just figured you might want a little insurance. Sergei's a ghost and Toby? That man's unpredictable as hell."
Trice slid a loaded magazine into his sidearm with a sharp click. "Yeah, and that's exactly why I gotta do this my way. Sergei trusts me. Toby… well, Toby just needs the right motivation."
Jeffrie raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"
Trice finally looked up, a gleam of confidence in his eyes.
"He owes me money."
Ray blinked—then burst out laughing. "Ain't no way you about to use debt collection as your extraction plan."
Trice shrugged. "Hey, whatever works."
Jeffrie smirked, but his expression turned serious again. "Just don't get caught up. Sable's forces are tightening security after the last mission. They know we're coming."
Trice exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "That's fine. I'll hit 'em where they don't expect."
Azul's voice crackled over the comms.
"Trice, your transport's ready. Wheels-up in five."
He nodded, securing his last knife before standing up. "Guess that's my cue."
Jeffrie reached out, gripping his shoulder. "Stay sharp, bro."
Ray fist-bumped him. "And if you do get caught? Just blame it on me."
Trice smirked. "Oh, I always do."
As he headed for the exit, the low hum of engines grew louder sleek, dark aircraft settling on the pad just beyond the compound gates.
The Phoenix.
Smaller than a dropship, sharper than a gunship—stealth-mode enabled, long-range capable, and fast enough to vanish before sensors could catch it. It could carry twenty-five if needed, but tonight, it was riding light.
Trice moved toward it just as the loading ramp lowered—and a figure in a grease-streaked jumpsuit jogged out, waving a wrench in one hand and a protein bar in the other.
Ethan.
"Yo, hold up!" he shouted. "You bend my ramp like last time, I'm gonna rewire your comms to play love songs every time you breathe heavy."
Trice blinked. "...You good?"
Ethan grinned. "I'm always good. Phoenix is prepped, cloaked, and humming like a dream. Just don't crash her—again."
Ray leaned toward Jeffrie. "Why does he sound like that's already happened?"
Jeffrie didn't respond. Just rubbed the bridge of his nose like this wasn't even the weirdest part of his day.
Trice gave Ethan a mock salute and stepped inside the aircraft.
Ethan slapped the side of the hull affectionately. "Bring her back with all her parts, yeah?"
The ramp sealed shut. The engines pulsed.
The Phoenix lifted silently, disappearing into the clouds like a ghost.