My team is packed into a van that’s racing toward the castle.

My team consists of just four men, myself included. Magnus, my cousin and best friend, and the twins, Karl and Nils. Since Magnus is only fourth in line to the throne, they let him fully commit to the Special Forces. Where I was only allowed to take part in missions deemed “safe,” Magnus was able to take part in all of the most dangerous assignments.

Karl and Nils served with Magnus on most of those assignments, and I’d trust these three with my life.

Still, Magnus looks apprehensive.

“If your father is this sick,” Magnus says, “then―”

“Save it,” I say, cocking a gun. “This is an attack directly on our country. I can’t sit this one out.”

His strong jaw bulges out as he grinds his teeth, but finally he nods. “You’re right, and fuck it, if you die, I’ll be one step closer to the throne!”

We all laugh, but then the radio cuts in.

“Hostages taken at the castle. All forces needed at the castle. Repeat―”

“Fuck!” I slam my fist down. “We’re too late.”

The plan was for the four of us to sneak into the castle as tourists. We were going to take down the terrorists before they executed their plan, but now it’s too late.

When we arrive, there are dozens of police cars and military vehicles pulling up at the same time as we do.

Even within the military, very few know what I look like. I still need to keep my head down, as high-ranking generals will recognize me. I pull on a black beanie and tighten my scarf. Since we planned to infiltrate as tourists, I’m still wearing civilian clothing. No time to change now.

My team walks up to another squad and asks about the situation.

“They’ve closed the drawbridge,” a bald guy with huge arms says. “They’re using our own fucking castle against us.”

“How many separatists are inside?’ I ask.

He looks at me and shakes his head. “We aren’t sure. But their leader has told us he has at least thirty hostages in there. Most of them are foreigners.”

Fuck. It’s just like the guy I captured said it would be.

General Breivik will be calling the shots now, along with parliament. Even though I’m next in line to the throne and father is unresponsive, I won’t be expected to make any real decisions until I’m actually crowned king. I trust Breivik’s experience to handle this like my father would, but I already know there’s no good option.

Giving into the separatists’ demands will give them legitimacy and make us look weak. Worse, it will invite more incidents like this. Cut a deal to let the hostages go today, and we just create more hostages tomorrow.

Storming the castle will mean a lot of dead tourists. It will cost innocent lives, and it will make Nordia look like a cold and heartless nation on the national stage.

“They’re claiming they’re Russians,” Magnus says, the veins on his forehead bulging. “Those fuckers!”

“Of course they won’t admit they are Sydians,” I say. “This is to make us look bad.”

Magnus, Karl, Nils, and I watch with growing anxiety as negotiations begin.

General Breivik tells the terrorists that he’ll consider reasonable requests, and the terrorists counter by asking for five hundred million Euro and a helicopter.

Once he’s off the phone with them, he tells his advisers that they will need to get ready to storm the castle.

“Fuck this,” I say, digging through the equipment crate. I pull out a grappling hook gun.

“What the hell are you doing with that?” Magnus hisses at me.

“Our plan was good,” I say. “It’s just harder to pull off now.”

“You’re going to―”

I cut him off. “Yeah, just don’t tell anyone.”

“Let me do it,” Magnus says, grabbing the hook gun.

I pull it away from him. “Look, man, you’ve got to let me do this. If father doesn’t get better, I may be king soon. This might be my last chance to fight for my country.”

He starts to shake his head, but he lets go of the grappling hook. I take it back, and I look him straight in the eyes.

“I can do this,” I say. “You know I can.”

He nods begrudgingly, and we pull up a map of the castle, intent on finding my best entry point.