Page 1 of Dark Rebel's Mystery

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KYRA

Kyra lay flat on her stomach, peering through night-vision binoculars at the compound below. Even without the military-grade equipment, her enhanced vision would have given her a clear view of the guards patrolling the perimeter, but she'd learned to hide her extraordinary abilities, including keeping the truth from her closest friends and allies.

Kurds were highly superstitious, and the most rational and educated among them had no problem believing in evil spirits, or Jinns as they were called in these parts. If they realized how strong she really was or how good her night vision was, they might start fearing her. Already, Kyra had earned the reputation of being invisible to the Malak al-Maut based on how many times she'd narrowly escaped death.

"Six guards on rotation," she whispered. "Two at the main gate, two patrolling the eastern wall, and two more on the western side."

Soran, her second-in-command, shifted silently beside her. "The intel was good then. Matches what our source said."

She nodded, studying the way the guards moved. These weren't the usual poorly disciplined conscripts that her team typically encountered. Something about how they patrolled the ground, alert and silent, tugged at her memory, but like most things from her past, the thought slipped away before she could grasp it.

They must have important prisoners in there for an elite unit to be guarding the place, and none of the people she'd come to rescue qualified as such.

Who else was being held in this facility?

Or maybe she had it all wrong, and the special unit wasn't there to guard prisoners but a high-up commander from the Islamic Revolutionary Guard.

Funny how the oppressors called themselves revolutionaries. The inversion of truth was not only ironic but also infuriating.

The amber pendant that was hidden beneath her shirt pulsed, warm and insistent, pointing her in the direction of the eastern wing of the compound. She'd found it years ago, or perhaps it had found her, and she often wondered if its guiding power came from the stone itself or from something inside her that the stone merely amplified.

It was just one more mystery in a life full of them.

"The prisoners are being held in the eastern building," she said without explaining how she knew that. Her team had learned to trust her intuition and not ask too many questions. "We'll need to create a diversion on the other side."

Soran touched her arm, a gesture that would have earned anyone else a swift takedown, but he'd fought beside her for over fifteen years and earned the right to such familiarity.

"The usual?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No explosives this time. Too many civilians in the surrounding buildings. We need to do this clean and quiet."

Soran's lips formed a tight line, but he nodded.

Explosives would have made things much easier and faster, but they were fighting to free the people from oppression, not deliver them faster to their Maker. Still, she would be risking her team by sending them to potentially interact with an elite fighting force without providing proper distraction.

Behind them, the rest of her twelve-person team waited for instructions. They were all hardened and loyal fighters. They'd followed her on countless missions like this one, freeing political prisoners, rescuing women from honor killings, and striking back against those who thought they could break their people's spirit.

She shifted to face them. "Hamid, Zara—you're on diversion duty, as we discussed. Simulate a perimeter breach on the western wall and try to make it look amateurish; I want them to think that it's just some local teens causing mischief. Soran will lead teams two and three through the eastern approach."

Out of habit, her fingers moved along with her words in the hand signals they had developed over the many years of working together, showing each team their exact route and timing.

"What about you?" Zara asked, though she likely knew the answer.

"I'm going over the roof." Kyra had already spotted her route—a drainage pipe that looked sturdy enough to support her weight, though anyone else would have probably considered it too risky.

Soran frowned. "Alone?"

"I'm stealthier on my own."

It was true. Kyra could easily scale walls and leap between buildings while others struggled to keep up. Her body simply did things that should not have been possible, and she'd learned to hide it as best she could.

She checked her watch. "Thirty minutes until shift change. That's our window. Get into position and wait for my signal."

As her team moved out silently, she watched until they disappeared into the shadows before turning back to study the compound. The pendant's warmth had settled into a steady pulse, confirming they were in the right place. Somewhere in that building were people who needed their help.

Her hand went to the scarf covering her hair—black, to blend with the shadows. She never went anywhere without her head covered, but it wasn't because of religious conviction. She didn't want her face to be seen and remembered, and when on a mission, she covered her mouth and nose with it, leaving only her eyes exposed. The fewer people who knew what she looked like, the better.

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