Hail Mary

Hail Mary

The tension inside the car was suffocating. The tires hummed against the pavement as Shane focused on the road, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

“Pick it up,” Aaron urged, eyes locked on the GPS.

“I’m trying,” Shane snapped.

The small dot on Aaron’s screen—Hera and Thompson’s location—hadn’t moved in minutes. That was bad. Either they were tied down, unconscious, or worse. Aaron shook the thought away. No. He refused to believe that.

Shane, however, wasn’t as composed. “What if they’re—”

“Don’t,” Aaron cut in sharply. “They’re fine.”

But the worry clung to them both. The car they were trailing had started slowing down, and it was throwing Aaron off.

“Shane, pick it up again. I swear, at this pace, we’ll probably start rolling backward.”

Shane exhaled loudly. “You wanna drive?”

It was a sarcastic remark, just another way to deflect the stress. But to his surprise, Aaron said, “Yeah.”

Shane blinked. “What?”

“Pull over,” Aaron said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Shane glanced at him like he’d lost his mind. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.”

A brief but heated argument followed, but Aaron didn’t budge. Finally, with a muttered curse, Shane pulled the car over.

“Fine,” he grumbled, shifting it into park.

They both moved quickly, but the car was small, making the switch awkward. Aaron clambered over the console while Shane tried to slide across the seat. In the process, Aaron’s knee pressed into Shane—somewhere it definitely shouldn’t have.

Shane went rigid.

Aaron froze mid-movement, his breath hitching.

A long, tense second passed.

Then Shane’s voice came low, tight. “Aaron—move.”

Aaron practically scrambled the rest of the way, muttering, “Right, yeah, my bad, that was—yeah. Sorry.”

Shane didn’t say anything, just exhaled through his nose, looking somewhere past the windshield.

Aaron finally got into position, fingers gripping the wheel.

Shane hesitated before fastening his seatbelt. He cast one last glance at Aaron, as if considering something, but then he shook his head.

“Go, go, go!” he barked.

Aaron slammed his foot on the gas. The tires screeched, and the car shot forward, pushing Shane back into his seat.

In that moment, Shane regretted the entire switch.

He barely had time to curse before Aaron swerved into the next lane, cutting off a sedan as he shot past. The roar of the engine was drowned out by the blaring horn of the car behind them.

Shane’s hand flew to the door handle, gripping it like a lifeline. “Jesus, Aaron—”

“No time,” Aaron muttered, eyes locked ahead as he yanked the wheel and narrowly dodged another car.

Shane braced against the dashboard as they weaved through traffic. Aaron was fast—way too fast. He shifted gears like a pro, overtaking two cars in quick succession before skidding into the next lane.

“You—you drive like this?” Shane demanded, trying to steady himself.

“No,” Aaron replied, deadpan. “Usually, I go faster.”

Shane’s mouth fell open. “You are not serious.”

Another sharp turn, another near-collision. Aaron didn’t even flinch.

The car jolted as he accelerated, barely missing a van before squeezing between a truck and a sports car. Shane’s heart stopped for half a second as their side mirror nearly clipped the truck.

Aaron’s grip on the wheel was firm, his jaw set in determination. He didn’t look reckless—he looked focused. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Shane, on the other hand, was seeing his life flash before his eyes. “Where—where the hell did you learn to drive like this?”

Aaron finally spared him a glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Road Sim.”

Shane blinked. “What?”

Aaron shifted gears again. “You know, the game?”

Shane just stared at him. “The—the racing game?”

Aaron nodded. “Yeah, they had a traffic violation level.”

Shane let that sink in.

He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “Oh my God. We’re going to die before we even save Hera and the General.”

Aaron shrugged, effortlessly dodging an incoming car. “Not if we get there first.”

Shane could only grip the door handle tighter and pray they actually made it in one piece.



The room was silent except for the steady ticking of the bomb. Hera’s wrists ached from the tight restraints, but she ignored the discomfort, keeping her gaze locked on the masked man pacing in front of her.

"Oh my God. Take one more walk and I'll probably just grab your gun and complete your job myself." Hera groaned tired of seeing the soldier pacing before her.

The soldier stopped and stood right before Hera, his eyes burning with frustration. “You think you’re tough, don’t you?” he sneered. “Sitting there, tied up, waiting to die.”

Hera let out a dry chuckle. “Tougher than you, apparently. You need four guys and a bomb just to keep me us one place.”

He stepped closer, fists clenched. “Keep running your mouth, and I’ll make sure you don’t have time for last words.”

She met his glare, unflinching. “Please. If you were going to kill me, you’d have done it already. Instead, you’re here, pacing like some second-rate villain who forgot his lines.”

His jaw tightened. “You don’t get it, do you? You’ve already lost.”

Hera tilted her head. “Big talk for a man speaking to me behind a mask. Why don’t you take it off and let’s see if you still have any of that gall left?”

The man stopped. For a moment, she thought he might ignore her, but then, slowly, he reached for his mask and pulled it off.

A scar ran down his jaw, cutting through his stubble. His narrowed eyes held a mixture of irritation and amusement. “Happy now?”

Hera tilted her head, unimpressed. “Let’s find out.”

She struck fast.

With a sudden jerk forward, she slammed her forehead into his nose. A sickening crack echoed through the room as the man stumbled backward, cursing. Blood gushed from his nostrils as he fell to the ground, gripping his face.

The other masked men snapped to attention, stepping toward her. One reached for her shoulder, and instinctively, Hera raised her leg to strike—

Click.

The sound was faint but unmistakable.

She froze, heart slamming against her ribs.

One of the men smirked. “Bad move.”

Hera looked down. The bomb strapped to her foot blinked erratically, the timer accelerating.

“What did you do?” she breathed.

“It was set for an hour,” the man said, watching her with detached amusement. “Now? You’ve got less than fifteen minutes.”

Hera’s chest tightened.

Thompson strained against the ropes, his sharp eyes darting to Hera’s leg as the bomb’s timer suddenly sped up. His breath hitched.

“What the hell did you do?” he hissed, his voice tight with barely contained panic.

Hera clenched her jaw, staring at the rapidly decreasing numbers. “I may have… antagonized our friend here.”

Thompson let out a sharp breath, his muscles tensing. “Antagonized? Snow, you just turned an hour into fifteen damn minutes!”

The soldier smirked, arms crossed. “You should listen to your friend, lady. Not so smart now, huh?”

Thompson shot him a withering glare before turning back to Hera. “Tell me you have a plan.”

Hera exhaled slowly, eyes flickering to the door. “Yeah,” she muttered. “Step one? Hope like hell Aaron and Shane get here in time.”

Thompson groaned, shifting against the ropes. “Fantastic. We’re so screwed.”

She clenched her jaw, inhaling through her nose. Panic wouldn’t help her. Not now.

She exhaled slowly, then muttered under her breath.

“Where are you guys?”