Page 62 of Dark Rebel's Mystery

"It's them," he said. "I can see the van where they most likely keep the prisoners. There are bars on the windows."

Kyra's chest tightened. "Wait for Zara's signal." The plan was for Zara's group to spring the trap at the narrowest point of the pass, where the road was flanked by sheer rock walls, making it impossible for the convoy to outrun them. Then Kyra's group would swoop in from behind the ridge.

She glanced back at her fighters. Some of them she'd recruited years ago; others were new, and this was their first dangerous mission. But everyone had to start somewhere, and there was no time for coddling.

The crackle of gunfire that echoed through the pass signaled that Zara's group had begun the ambush, peppering the lead jeep with bullets and forcing it to skid sideways. Meanwhile, Hamid's decoy team fired from the south, drawing away half the guards' attention.

This was Kyra's cue.

She sprang up from cover, leading her fighters down the slope at an angle so they'd be behind the second truck. The dryness in her throat vanished, and she entered the zone of intense focus. Gunfire rang out in staccato bursts, the sound reverberating off the stone. Fighters on both sides shouted, and muzzles flashed from the van's escort.

A bullet zipped past her ear, stirring dust, and she dropped into a crouch behind a boulder to return fire. Roshrud crouched on her right, steadying his aim.

The soldiers were quick to react, and she wondered how many of them were enhanced. Then she glimpsed one bounding from the lead jeep, moving with speed and agility that betrayed his identity.

Could a bullet kill them? Would it even slow them down?

She'd been shot in the past, and it had hurt, but it hadn't kept her down. Then again, nothing vital had been hit. If she aimed at the heart, perhaps it would be fatal or at least slow him.

Soran's voice barked out orders from behind a battered outcrop: "Kyra, push left! They're focusing on the decoy. We can get to the van now!"

She half-ran, half-crawled across the uneven ground, bullets ricocheting off the rocks. The enhanced soldier met her halfway, but instead of shooting her, he swung a baton at her head.

What the hell?

Did he want to capture her alive? Was that his plan?

Instinct guiding her, she ducked and spun instead of firing at him, blocking a blow that would have shattered the bones of an ordinary woman. A bullet wouldn't have slowed him downunless it was between the eyes, and her aim wasn't that good while fighting. The impact jarred her from shoulder to elbow, but she gritted her teeth, ignoring the pain. Catching him by surprise, she swiped his legs, twisting with more force than he'd expected from a woman. He went down but scrambled up terrifyingly quickly.

They exchanged rapid strikes.

His baton whistled past her skull, and she dodged and hammered a fist into his ribs, ignoring the logic that told her punching an enhanced soldier might not slow him down, but she still couldn't shoot him while fighting him hand to hand.

Kyra felt a satisfying crack of bone under her knuckles.

He grunted and staggered.

With him momentarily stunned, he provided her with the perfect target for a killing shot. She pulled out her gun and shot him point blank between the eyes.

No one should be able to survive that, not even an enhanced soldier, and for a moment, she felt a pang of sorrow for ending the life of someone like her, but then she reminded herself that he was nothing like her. He was a monster working for monsters who maimed and killed without remorse.

She whirled toward the van, scanning for danger, but her people had already taken care of the regular soldiers who had guarded its flank.

She sprinted, weaving between large rock fragments, until she reached the van's rear door. Bars covered the frosted window, and she glimpsed shapes inside, but there was no way for her toknow whether there were more guards with rifles waiting for her inside.

Soran appeared at her shoulder and pressed a heavy wrench into her hand. "Padlock," he shouted over the din. "Do it. I'll cover you."

Kyra jammed the wrench against the lock, using her supernatural strength to snap it. She heard metal groan and give, and the door swung open.

The interior was dim, but no one was shooting at her, which meant no guards were inside.

She scanned the detainees, looking for Twelve, but none of the faces matched the one she desperately needed to see. Some were lying on the van's floor, though, so maybe Twelve was among them. A slumped figure near the front of the truck had a sack over the head, and hope surged in Kyra's chest. She leaped into the van and yanked the sack off, but it was a man underneath, with bruises along his jaw and a livid gash across his temple.

Frantic, she forced herself to slow down and scrutinize each face. She'd seen these people through the windows of their cells. She recognized them.

They were all there except for Twelve.

Kyra felt faint.

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