by James Hunt
Sarah’s heart raced as she made her way through the shadows. The rays of sunlight from the other end finally broke through and illuminated her feet, then her knees, waist, chest, and face until she made it through the hallway and could see the chopper gearing for take off. Massive piles of crates were stacked in sporadic patterns around the platform. Then, through the glass of the helicopter, she could see Demps, the tall man, and her brother with a gun to his head.
“So good to see you again, Sarah,” Demps said. The voice echoed over the fading din of the sirens behind her. Demps was broadcasting over some sort of speaker system. The chopper’s blades twirled slowly in anticipation of takeoff.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Demps,” Sarah said.
“You know, it’s funny. I’ve spent so much time with your brother over the past few days that I feel like I’ve really gotten to know you and your family.”
The words twisted Sarah like a disease. She took a few steps forward, her mind going over the resources on her belt. If she fired at them, there wouldn’t be any doubt her brother’s life was over.
“I think my favorite story was the first time Ben here took you to the range.” Demps laughed, and so did the tall man. “Why, he said the pistol just flew out of your hand! You certainly have come a long way.”
Sarah kept up a slow pace, continuing to move forward as the chopper’s blades blew her hair back. She did her best to control the spasms in her arm. The heightened sense of awareness from the adrenaline was peaking to the point of overloading her senses.
“I was so surprised to find out that Ben here had no idea of your work—your real work, I mean,” Demps said. “I don’t think he believed me until he saw you a little bit ago. I kept telling him how much of a pain you’ve been, but I kept saying how much I admired your tenacity.”
“Yeah, that’s what keeps popping up on my performance review,” Sarah said.
“Keep him talking,” Bryce said. “Backup heading your way in thirty seconds.”
“You know, when we hacked your servers, I actually got to read your latest performance review. Quite the agent, but it did appear to me that you had some issues.”
“Twenty seconds,” Bryce said. Sarah took a few more steps forward, her stomach turning into a slow, sour knot.
“What was it exactly that was said?” Demps tapped his finger over his lips and then smiled. “Ah, I remember! ‘Agent Hill displays a narcissistic attitude in the field that could put both her and other operatives in danger.’” Demps turned to her brother and fisted a cluster of his hair, and the tall man lowered the pistol to Ben’s back. “Just like this one.”
Everything happened at once. The bullet entering Ben, the spray of blood that appeared on the window, the chopper taking off, and the tall man dropping Ben’s body from six feet off the ground before the chopper disappeared into the sky.
Sarah unloaded everything she had, the bullets pinging off the bullet proof glass and thick armor, sprinting toward her brother, her face twisted in anger, grief, and pain. She pulled one of the C-4 explosives from her belt and chucked it at the helicopter, but before the explosive made it to its target, it detonated in midair, the chopper radiating some kind of frequency to protect it.
Sarah felt the heat from the blast above as she crashed to her knees, cradling her brother’s head in her lap. Blood had poured out of his stomach, and the fall had snapped his collarbone in half, the bone protruding from the skin and cloth. His mouth filled with blood, and he coughed up bits of red over his chin and chest. “Hang on, Ben.” She put pressure on the wound, her fingers squishing in the blood. “Bryce?” Her voice was rising to a shout.
“Medevac on the way.”
“Sarah,” Ben said, his voice coming out garbled and strained.
“Ben, try not to talk. Help is on the way. You’re gonna be fine.”
“I’m sorry.” Sarah looked at her brother and saw his head rolling back and forth on the ground. He struggled for air, and his face winced in pain. “I’m sorry for not talking to you about Mom and Dad more.”
Sarah’s lip quivered. She shook her head. “It’s okay”—her voice cracked—“I should have been there. I should have come. That was my fault. I’m sorry.”
Ben gave a half smile, the same one he had inherited from their dad. He held up his hand, and Sarah grasped it, her fingers sliding from the blood. “Take care of my family.” She kept a tight hold on his hand but could feel his fingers loosen.
“Ben?” Sarah asked, checking his pulse. “Ben. Ben!” She kept screaming his name. She placed her hands over his sternum and pushed, breaking his ribs, trying to pump the life back into him. “Please, Ben, don’t do this.” Her arms went rigid as she counted the number of compressions. “C’mon, Ben!” Tears rolled off her face and landed on her hands, mixing with her brother’s blood.
A team of medics arrived and peeled Sarah off him. She watched them swarm him, lift him onto a stretcher, and then load him into the chopper that had arrived. She ran alongside him, keeping hold of his hand through the group of medics working on him. She squeezed it, even though he didn’t squeeze back. She held his hand while they tried to resuscitate him. And she kept holding it when the medics pronounced him dead upon arrival at the hospital at 6:14 p.m.
Chapter 13
Andrea was woken in the middle of the night by her chief of staff at 3:14 a.m. It was then that she learned the power grid had been turned back on. She quickly dressed, downed a pot of coffee, and entered the conference call with the other world leaders, who looked just as abruptly awoken as she did despite the time zone differences.
“When did we get the first breakthrough?” Andrea asked.
The American president was the first to speak. “Less than twenty minutes ago. It’s starting off small, but it looks like we’ve cracked the code. We’ll be testing it out on a few smaller grids to ensure that it’s legitimate. Once that happens, we’ll be passing along the information.”
Andrea rested her head on her arm for a moment, letting the relief of the news sink in. It was still a long road to recovery, but this was a definite step in the right direction. She looked back up and could see the same relief on all the faces around her. “What about the Chinese and Russians?”
“They’re still advancing on both the Pacific and Eastern European fronts,” the Japanese prime minister replied. “But we think they’ll scale back once everything comes back online.”
“Well,” Andrea said, recomposing herself, “until then, we’re still at war. I’ll meet with my generals immediately, and we’ll reconvene in a few hours.”
The faces nodded and agreed then disappeared, leaving Andrea and the American president alone. “My aide said you wanted to speak with me privately, Mr. President?” Andrea asked.
“We didn’t crack the code, Andrea. It was given to us.”
“What? By whom?”
“I think by the same organization that your mystery friend works for.”
“Were you able to trace the source from the drop-off?”
“No, but it doesn’t sit well with me that there is some organization that is a step ahead of us. I was hoping we could share our information, see what we could come up with.”
“You don’t really think that whoever gave you the code is a threat, do you?”
“I won’t know that until I find out who they are, and until then, I will treat them like all potential threats. With caution.”
“Of course, Mr. President.”
The call ended, and Andrea leaned back in her chair, the coffee barely holding her together. Her wits were fried, along with her body. But she breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that the woman she’d met after the summit was on her side. Her instincts had been right. But despite the mystery woman’s recent acts, she was now a target of investigation by the force that was the United States. Andrea needed to find the woman before the Americans did.
***
Sarah paced back and forth outside the small hos
pital room where Becca and the kids sat, waiting to hear anything about Ben—their father, their husband, their family. Sarah had been outside that door for almost thirty minutes. She wanted to be the one to tell them, but she had no idea what to say. She knew the moment she opened that door, their world would be shattered.
Finally, with her stomach and heart seemingly switching places back and forth in her body, Sarah grabbed the door handle with a shaky hand and stepped inside. Ella and Matt rushed over to her and wrapped their little bodies ceremoniously around her legs, as they were accustomed to greeting her, and Sarah gave them pats on the heads.
But when Sarah looked at Becca, her face red and her eyes puffy, no words came out. And the moment she couldn’t form the words, Becca knew what that meant. She burst into tears, losing whatever strength was left in her, and collapsed to the ground. Both her children peeled themselves off Sarah’s legs and rushed to their mother, where they cried with her without knowing why.
Becca clutched her children in her arms, pulling them to her chest. She breathed in heavy sobs, trying to control herself as she focused on soothing her kids. She stroked their heads, whispering that everything was okay. With her eyes still watering, she rose to her feet.
Sarah stood there, her arms out in a helpless stance, still unable to speak, unable to say anything to help ease the pain that her family was going through at that moment. Becca took a few steps forward, and Sarah finally managed to form sounds. “Becca, I’m so sorry.”
The crack that sounded from the slap of Becca’s hand against Sarah’s cheek sent a shock of silence that permeated everything in the room—the walls, the chairs, their bodies. All that remained were the lingering burn of flesh across Sarah’s cheek and the light-red imprint of Becca’s hand. Without another word, Becca grabbed both her kids and left Sarah alone in the room.
Sarah brought her hand to her cheek gently, feeling the heat from the slap. Her mind raced to process everything, running through different scenarios of the past hour until it brought her to the present. Her legs felt weak, and she collapsed to the ground, her hands grabbing at nothing but air, forming fists. Slow, rolling sobs escaped her. They were painful, gut wrenching. Everything came out, everything she’d let herself hold in. Then the sobs and cries turned into screams. Her face flushed red, her throat turned raw, and the veins in her neck pulsed with every blood-curdling shriek that left her voice until there was nothing but raw, angry whispers.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there—time seemed to stand still—but when she finally rose, she felt a shift in her body, in her mind.
“Sarah?” Bryce asked, his voice as soft as a whisper. “I’m… I don’t…”
Sarah’s entire body trembled. Her fists clenched at her sides. Her jaw tightened, hot spit flying from her mouth as the words left her like venom being purged from a wound. “His clock is ticking. He’s a dead man. Find him for me, Bryce.” She stepped through the doorway and marched through the hospital. “Find the fucking prick.”
The next installment of Agent Hill is now out- Find out happens next!
Click Here! Agent Hill- Reboot
Check out the FREE Prequel below
Click Here to read the FREE Prequel
Agent Sarah Hill is the best field agent the GSF has ever seen, and while she may have a few reprimands *cough* 43 *cough* there isn’t anyone her boss, Mack Farr, trusts more to get the job done. So when one of Mack’s oldest friends is murdered, she’s sent to investigate which leads her down the rabbit hole of terrorism on a global scale.
Click Here to read the FREE Prequel
