Today, the voices inside my head are screaming out from the depths of my soul; Sage is my one and I am hers. I fought for her so long, giving every excuse as to why we shouldn’t be together. Like she did the same. Fighting a losing battle neither one of us thought we could win.

In the end, no one can deny fate. Destiny brought Sage into my life, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let it ever take her away from me.

Forty-eight agonizing hours of torture and what ifs. Forty-eight painstakingly long hours in order to create a perfect plan, assemble everyone from our teams necessary to complete the mission, and be ready to execute. We needed every detail constructed, forged down to the most minute component of the operation.

No matter how much I wanted to storm the battlefront and rescue Sage myself.

The special operations craft quietly whizzes through the rough ocean water easily, jumping swells and bouncing wildly as we move closer to the yacht. The full moon shines brightly in the sky, giving us light during the cloak-and-dagger campaign.

Adrenaline pumping at an all-time high for everyone present in the boat. My body is tense, muscles quivering, and jaw clenched, Sage perpetually at the forefront of my troubled mind. This may be the most important mission of my life.

The raging Hulk inside me waiting to escape. Failure is not an option.

In a matter of minutes, we arrive at the yacht, skirting around to the stern. We immediately assess the number of guards visible; seventeen in all guard the outside of the boat. A sure sign of someone influential aboard the craft, and it stands to reason more will be below decks.

When we prepare to dock, two armed guards come into view. Shannon quietly maneuvers the skiff up to the stern of the boat. With the engine silent, we tie off onto the large vessel. In the cover of darkness, no one detects we’re there.

Stealthily, the team moves out, scaling the ship’s hull walls without a sound. Shannon stays behind to man the craft and ready it for escape. One at a time, we board the ship under the cover of blackness, moving as one. Utilizing hands signals to communicate, we leave no survivors in our wake.

The first guard I catch unawares, as I slice his throat from ear to ear. Blood gushes from his carotid artery, and I lay him on the deck to die. One down.

The second guard taken by surprise reacts a little too late as Keagan snaps his neck in two. Two down.

Oliver takes the lead as we move forward into the next layer of the ship. Dodging behind doorways and halls when more guards approach. One by one, we rid the world of the filth plaguing life itself. One by one, we progress, closer to finding Sage and Mustaf.

As we maneuver around the next corner, Ollie halts forward momentum, gesturing with his fist in the air. Voices echo through the corridor, ones we’ve heard before. Calista Cabricci and her whiney tone projects around us. A heated discussion between her and an unknown male arguing back and forth. We halt progress. The next few words spoken cause the blood to stop cold in my chest.

“We had a deal, Mustaf. Just because my cousin isn’t around doesn’t mean you can up and run on our deal,” Calista shrieks.

“Do. Not. Call. Me by my given name, woman,” Mustaf booms into the air. “You are not worthy.”

“Are you crazy, you sorry son of a bitch. You do not speak to me like that. You know who I am,” Calista’s ranting escalates.

“Mother, let me handle this,” Cade, one of Calista’s twins, speaks up.

A rustling ensues, and then a door slams as clacking heels echo down the hall away in the opposite direction from our current location.

In a whisper, Keagan says, “It’s confirmed. Mustaf is here, and it looks like Calista got the boot.”

“Yeah. And now we’re shut out. Can’t hear a damn thing, brother. We should move. Let’s set up for the fireworks. Everyone knows their part,” Oliver responds.

“Move out,” I mutter, and we continue down the long passageway, then down another flight of stairs further into the belly of the beast.

We scatter into groups; Oliver and I proceed to the lower deck level. Thermal imaging indicated that there was a single individual located on this floor with armed guards outside the door.

Getting ahead of Ollie, I trek down the hallway, searching for Sage.

“This is it, Bishop. Ready?” I ask.

I glance around the corner and spot the three sentries posted outside the door.

“Confirmed. Three armed and dangerous a yard away,” I validate.

“Ready on three. One. Two. Three,” Oliver counts off, and we rush the guards, shooting as we go.

The bullets hit their marks precisely. Due to the silencers on our guns, the faint, muffled cries of the guilty are eerily silent.

I grab the keys from the downed guard and unlock the door. Slowly, I open the door, my acute senses on high alert as the muscles in my arms quiver.

Opening the door carefully with the barrel of my gun, I reach my hand inside. Unsure of what I will find. My stomach commences to flip-flops of what could be on the other side of the locked entry.

When I see a roaming red heel cocked as a weapon through the crack of the door, I instantly feel relief. That’s my Sage. A fighter till the end.

Quickly, I usher inside the dimly-lit room and find a soft, warm body. Sage. Our souls collide, recognizing the other.

I place my hand over her mouth to silence the scream and unwanted guards rushing in on us. I don’t want to traumatize her more.

“Shh, princess, it’s me,” I whisper in her ear, and her body relaxes on the spot.

I don’t wait for another minute to pass; it’s been too long already. Crushing my lips to hers, I pour in all the love I have for her. Needing her to feel my soul, feel my love. I release her abruptly. Stakes are too high and we have to get out of here. The need to bring her to safety takes over.

“You ready to blow this joint, babe?”

Sage replies, breathless, “Let’s do this, Jolly Green.”

I glance over to see Ollie standing guard by the exit. His posture is rigid, on high alert. The watchman ever vigilant, protecting us. The need to disclose my feelings overpowers my purpose.

“Wait. Before I take you out of here, I have to say something,” I start off.

“It can’t wait, Luc? We need to get out of here. You said so yourself,” an exasperated Sage follows.

“I love you, Sage. I love you, and I want the whole world to know it,” I confess finally as the tension moves out of my shoulders.

She captures my face in her tiny hands and tugs me to her awaiting lips. Nirvana. Bliss. I’ve finally found my happy place.

The next few minutes are a blur. Sage is in my arms, right where she belongs. Oliver ushers us out of the room, and we move without detection from the lower decks of the ship to the awaiting skiff. I carry her the entire way, because I can’t let her go.

When everyone is in the escape boat, we disembark for the shoreline.

“Charges are set,” an out-of-breath Grady reports.

“Most of the guards were taken out. They’ll be none the wiser once the fireworks begin,” Keagan informs the crew.

“Then let’s finish this,” Sage provides her opinion, invoking a chuckle among the guys.

“Blood thirsty much, boo?” Keagan asks as he settles in beside Shannon at the front of the skiff.

“Not really. I just want to get the fuck out of here,” Sage replies.

The large craft speeds away swiftly in the water, putting distance between the two vessels. Once we’re at a safe distance, Grady ignites the charges.

“Bon voyage, motherfuckers,” Grady yells as he presses the button of the detonator.

* * *

“Masaa' al-khayr, Badahar. (Good evening, Badahar.) Report.”

“MarHaban (Hello.) The Trident team should arrive within the hour at the coordinates you supplied. The mission is to retract the Blackwood woman. They are aware you live but aren’t certain of your whereabouts. They only suspect you are aboard.”

“As it should be. I must conclude my business with the Cabricci family. Their shipment of product is crucial to a new buyer in the east. The order must be filled. We cannot find a new supplier in time for the delivery to take place. Business is business. Then I plan to sneak away into the night right under Keagan’s nose.”

“Shouldn’t we kill them? At first, you wanted them annihilated. That was the plan, and the opportunity has landed in our laps to take them out. We must strike them down.”

“He and the others live with the knowledge of their fallen brethren. Besides, they are not clever enough to figure out my master plan. Go. Finish the job and return to your post in Afghanistan for further instruction. as-salaam ‘alaykum, Badahur.”

“As-salaam ‘alaykum, Mustaf.” (Peace be upon you.)