Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty One
“SHADOWS ON THE WATER”

Astrid's POV

We slice through black waters, and I can feel the vibration of the boat engine on the metal floor beneath me. The night sky opens overhead, not a star visible through the cloud cover — perfect conditions for what we’re about to do. My stomach is churning, but I can’t tell if it’s morning sickness or fear. Maybe both.

Six hours after Eagan told us we were moving tonight, not three days from now. Six hours of frenzied preparations, weapons checks, and tense briefings.

I cinch the tactical vest snug against my torso, aware that it presses against my still-smooth abdomen. Eagan saw me fiddling with it earlier, and his eyes narrowed before he pivoted his full attention back to the navigation system. He has not addressed me directly since we boarded, but I can feel his awareness of me — like a physical touch.

“Five minutes to blackout zone,” announces Liam, his voice nearly lost in the rumble of the engine.

Nearby, Eagan’s men ensure their weapons are ready one last time. Twelve of his most loyal soldiers, each enough armed to begin a small war. No one stops me, though I feel sidelong looks —some curious, some disapproving.
Eagan shifts to the middle of the boat. "Communication protocols?"

“Radio silence once we’re within range of their scanners,” one of the men replies. "Hand signals only. Meet at extraction point alpha if separated.”

"Primary objective?"

Locate target E. Contain and extract.”
"Secondary objective?"

"Destroy all evidence. Leave no witnesses.”

For a moment, Eagan meets my eyes and then moves back to his men. “This is not a capture mission. Everyone in there has blood on their hands. We’re not here to judge—we’re here to execute.’

The men nod, their faces grim in the dim light.

“If we locate Elara,” Eagan continues, “the priority shifts to extraction. Nothing else matters. If we don't. …” he pauses, “burn it all down.

“Sir,” he says, approaching with a tablet in hand. “The latest thermal imaging found twenty-six heat signatures. More than we anticipated."

“They’re clearing out,” Eagan says, eyeing the screen. "Just as we suspected."

“The boat traffic has gone up as well.” Liam brings the camera in on one of the compound's sections. “They’re transferring something to the bigger boat over here.”

I lean over Eagan’s shoulder, closer. "What's that building?" I gesture toward a building away from the main compound.
"Unknown," Liam answers. "No windows. Heavy security. Could be a containment unit."

"Or a prison," I murmur.

Eagan's back stiffens. "We start there."

As we near the island at Facility Zero, the boat slows. I can see the outlines of buildings in the distance against the night sky, lights glowing like malevolent eyes.

Masks,” Eagan barks, slipping his own over his face.

I put mine on, the old weight lying across my nose and mouth. It’s not the first time I’ve worn one for operations in Eagan, but tonight feels different. Heavier. More final.

“Stick close to me,” Eagan says softly, adjusting my vest one final time. His fingers stay at least a moment longer than they need to. “If I signal: retreat, you go right away. No questions."
"And if you're hit?"

His eyes harden. "Then Liam gets you out. That’s an order he knows.

"I'm not leaving you behind."

“Yes,” he says, icy calm, “you are.”

Before I can protest, he turns and gestures to the helmsman to kill the engines. We glide the last little way, two voiceless shadows on dark water.

The island looms closer. I can make out the rocky shoreline now, the steep path leading up to the facility. Security lights sweep the grounds in timed sweeps.

“Movement,” one of the men whispers, as he points to a dock on the other side of the island. “They’re loading the boat right now.”

Eagan retrieves his night-vision binoculars. "How many?"

"At least eight guards. “And something in a stretcher.”

My heart jumps. "Elara?”

Too far to tell." Eagan’s voice gives nothing away, but I see his knuckles clutching the binoculars go white. "Change of plans. Team up with me to ambush the dock. Stay with Liam two towards the containment building. Move fast, stay silent."
"And me?" I ask quietly.

"With me." Do not argue with his tone.

“Diving” we all just slide into the water one at a time, the cold shock of lying steal my breath even through the wetsuit. I concentrate, force myself to block out thoughts of the life growing inside me. It is not the time to be distracted

The swim to shore is long and grueling, currents tugging at my body as I struggle to keep up with Eagan’s mighty strokes. My muscles are burning with effort by the time we reach the stony beach.

Eagan lifts me up next to him, looking at the shoreline.

“We travel in pairs,” he tells the team. “Take out any guards silently. Do not shoot unless you absolutely have to.’
We move on up the rocky trail, crouching down so the natural landscape can hide us. There are voices up ahead — guards talking, the sound of equipment being moved.

Eagan throws up a signal to halt, then motions for two of his men to skirt around to the left. They vanish into the darkness like ghosts.

“The boat’s nearly loaded,” he says, glancing at his watch.

"We have minutes, not hours."

"What if it's her?" I whisper back. “What if they’re moving Elara at this very moment?

"Then we take the boat." His eyes shine behind his mask.

"And kill everyone on it."

We climb to the top of the path, where we squat behind a low wall. I can see the dock from here clear as day. Guys unloading gear from a slick black boat. And there—two guards carrying a stretcher.

"Can you see?" I whisper.

Eagan adjusts his binoculars. "It's a woman. Blonde. Thin."
My throat tightens. "Her?"

"I don't know." There is an uncommon uncertainty in his voice. "It's been fifteen years."

One of Eagan’s men comes back, crouching next to us. “Sir, team two says the containment building is empty. Recently cleared out. They discovered restraints, medical paraphernalia.”

“They knew we were coming,” Eagan says, in a flat voice.

"What do we do?" I ask.
He sees them load the stretcher onto the boat. "We take it. Now."

Eagan gestures to his men, and they immediately disperse, taking up positions around the dock.

"Clear the deck!" Eagan yells, with all pretenses of stealth forgotten.

The cabin is dimly lit, medical equipment mounted on the walls. In the center, the stretcher. A woman lays still, attached to IV lines and monitoring devices.

And Eagan hovers, frozen over her, gazing at her face.

"Is it her?" I ask, panting from the battle.

He reaches out slowly, almost tentatively, and brushes blonde hair from the woman’s face. "No," he says finally. "It's not Elara."

“Please,” she whispers in a tongue I don’t understand. Then, in faltering English: “Help me.”

Eagan's expression hardens. "Who is she?"

A chart attached to the stretcher is read by one of his men. “Per this Subject 42. No real name listed. She’s been here three years.”

"Where are they taking her?"

“Coordinates are input into the navigation system. Well that looks like another facility, deeper in Kairos territory.”

The woman takes my wrist in her surprisingly strong grip. "Others," she croaks. "Many others. They take."

"When?" I ask. “When were they taking the others?”

"Yesterday. Today." Her eyes are rolling, wrestling against whatever drugs they’ve given her. "All gone now."

"And a woman named Elara?" Eagan demands. “Blonde, would be in her 20s now. Was she here?"

The face of the woman deformation by the pain. "Elara," she repeats. "Special one. Director's... project."

Eagan leans closer. "Where is she now?"

“The Nest,” the woman says quietly. “They bring special ones to The Nest.”

"What's The Nest?" I ask, but her eyes are closing again, consciousness fading.

“Sir,” one of Eagan’s men cuts in. "We need to move. Backup coming in from the main hangar.”

Eagan straightens, decision reached. "Bring her. And grab it all from their systems — navigation data, medical records, all of it.”

"And the facility?" Who is it?” asks Liam, appearing in the doorway.

"Burn it." Eagan's voice is ice. "Every building. Every piece of equipment. Every record that does not fit on this boat.

"What about survivors?"

"There won't be any."

“We’re taking this boat,” Eagan tells his men. “Team two will proceed to extract through our original vessel. Rendezvous at safe house bravo.”

And then we feel the engines come on underneath us. Eagan himself takes over the controls and steers the vessel away from the burning dock.

I see Facility Zero vanish into the night, the flames dancing on the water, as I calm Elrys down. A human cruelty monument turned to ash and smoke.

“It wasn’t her,” I whisper.

“No,’’ his gaze locked on the darkness ahead. “But now we are given new coordinates. And a name—The Nest."

“Do you think she’s actually there? After all this time?"

"I don't know. But as long as there is something to hope for..."

“You’ll set the world on fire to find her.”

"Yes." He glances at me. "Does that frighten you?".

“What scares me,” I finally say, “is that I know why you would.”

Something passes between us then — an understanding of the darkness we both share now.

“The woman,” I say after a moment. "What will happen to her?"

"We'll get information first. Then..." he hesitates. "That depends on you."

"On me?"

"You wanted to be my equal." His eyes meet mine. “This is what it looks like. Joint decisions. Shared responsibility."

The boat slices through the water as we pull farther from the burning island. Secondary explosions, as munitions are ignited, also still light up the night sky behind us.

Another facility destroyed. Another move in Eagan’s methodical destruction of the families that took his sister.

And a new lead — The Nest, whatever that is.

I keep one hand resting softly on my stomach, where I can feel the phantom flutter of the life inside. Not big enough to move yet, but there. It’s a complication in a very complicated game.

“Tell me something,” I say, driving through the dark. “And once you find Elara—if you find her—what then? Does the revenge end?"

Eagan is a dark silhouette against the night, his expression unreadable. “Wow, what if I said yes? Would you believe me?”

"No."
His lips twist in a sardonic smile. “Then you know me better than anyone.”

Facility Zero is only black water, a blackened scar, burning behind us. Leading up to The Nest, yet another puzzle piece in Eagan’s obsessive quest. And somewhere beyond that, a future I’m becoming less and less able to picture.

A future in which the child within me is raised in a world governed by men like Eagan King.

Or worse—becomes one of them.