Chapter 17
1059 Words
Chapter 17: The Flight Plan
At sunrise, the Atlas Mountains glowed gold, bathing the shelter in fragile light. Inside, Jonas had set up a portable transmitter, trying to contact an extraction pilot using an encrypted military frequency.
“We have one shot,” he said, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “They’ll trace the signal eventually. We need to be in the air in under three hours.”
Lina sat beside her mother, watching her chew dried fruit slowly, cautiously—as if eating too much of the real world at once might make it vanish. Amara’s eyes were tired, but her mind was sharp. She’d barely slept.
“Once we land in Tangier,” Alexander said, unrolling a satellite map, “we split. I’ll take the drive to Zurich. Jonas will disappear into Morocco with Amara, and Lina goes back under a new name.”
“No,” Lina said firmly. “I’m not vanishing. Not after everything.”
Alexander looked at her. “It’s not about vanishing. It’s about surviving.”
Lina’s mother reached for her hand. “He’s right. We have what we came for. Now we have to be smart.”
But Lina’s eyes burned. “I’m tired of surviving. I want to live. To do something with this.”
Jonas cleared his throat. “We’ll get her to Zurich,” he said, nodding toward Amara. “She’s safer with international protections and eyes on her.”
Alexander didn’t reply.
He was staring at the screen. At a ping that shouldn’t have been there.
A second aircraft was closing in.
⸻
They packed in ten frantic minutes. The shelter was stripped, the hard drive secured, their tracks covered.
Jonas muttered under his breath as they descended the mountain trail. “No way they found us naturally. That signal was clean.”
“Unless someone leaked it,” Amara said, voice tight.
Alexander’s jaw clenched.
They reached the clearing where the extraction plane—a rugged twin-prop—was already waiting, engines humming. A short, broad-shouldered woman stepped out in fatigues. “Let’s go. I’m only waiting five minutes.”
“Thank you, Mira,” Alexander said.
Lina caught it instantly. “You know her?”
He gave a curt nod. “We trained together.”
Mira smirked. “And you still owe me a bottle of Glenlivet from Morocco, 2016.”
She turned to help Amara board.
Jonas loaded the gear.
Lina climbed in.
Alexander stayed back for just a second too long, scanning the ridge behind them.
That’s when he saw it.
A glint of steel. A figure in black. A rifle.
He shouted, “DOWN!”
Gunfire ripped through the trees, and Mira threw herself into the cockpit. The propellers screamed louder. Jonas dragged Amara in and slammed the door.
Alexander covered Lina with his body as bullets shredded bark around them.
They dove inside the aircraft. The door slammed shut. Mira shouted something in Russian and yanked the throttle.
The plane jolted forward, the tires bouncing against rough stone. Behind them, more figures emerged—men in black, masks on, weapons raised.
The plane tilted upward just as bullets pinged off the fuselage.
And then… they were in the sky.
Alive. Barely.
⸻
Thirty minutes later, Mira set the plane to autopilot and joined them in the cabin, tossing Lina a water bottle.
“Who the hell are they?” she asked.
“Orion agents,” Alexander replied, checking the hard drive again. “And they’re not going to stop.”
Amara looked at Mira. “Can we trust you?”
Mira blinked. “I flew across a continent in a stolen aircraft. I think I’m on your side.”
Jonas tapped his tablet. “I can get us clearance to land in Zurich—but we’ll need to refuel in Valencia.”
“That’s Spain,” Lina said. “Isn’t that Kael’s territory?”
Alexander froze.
Jonas slowly turned. “Wait. Kael?”
Lina hesitated. “You know him?”
Jonas laughed bitterly. “Kael Ivanov used to run tech for the Russian unit Alexander infiltrated. They were brothers once. Until Kael sold half the unit out for profit.”
“And he works with Orion now,” Mira muttered. “Lovely.”
Lina felt the chill seep into her stomach. “So he’s been watching us. Since Morocco.”
Alexander nodded. “He was always one step ahead.”
Amara stood. “Then we skip Valencia. I’ll fly the plane myself if I have to. But we’re not landing where he controls the shadows.”
Mira raised an eyebrow. “You can fly?”
Amara shrugged. “Ten years in hiding teaches you a few things.”
Lina smiled, despite the tension.
This woman—this warrior—was her mother.
⸻
The team rerouted the plan. They would fly west, crossing over to Algiers, then cut back over the Mediterranean directly to Geneva using a decoy transponder.
Alexander sat beside Lina, watching the endless blue stretch below.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Kael before?” she asked softly.
“Because I didn’t think he’d dare come this close,” he said. “But now… I’m not so sure.”
She touched his hand. “We’ll handle it. Together.”
For once, he didn’t pull away.
⸻
When they finally touched down in Geneva, the sky was grey with snow. Swiss authorities had been tipped off by Jonas, and they escorted Amara into a secure vehicle within minutes.
The team stood on the tarmac, wind howling around them.
“I’ll stay here with her,” Jonas said. “You both should disappear for now.”
Mira nodded. “I’ve got a cabin in the Alps. Nobody will find you there.”
Lina turned to Alexander. “You still want to run?”
He met her gaze. “Not anymore. Not if you’re with me.”
She smiled, then slipped her hand into his.
⸻
Far above, a security camera across the airport terminal whirred quietly.
In a hidden office somewhere in southern Spain, Kael Ivanov watched the footage on repeat, his eyes narrowed.
“They have the drive,” he murmured. “And they have her.”
His fingers drummed on the armrest.
Then he smiled.
“Good. Let them feel safe. Just for a moment.”
- Writer
