Page 79 of Rescuing Mia

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. Stay close to me, okay?” I instinctively pull her closer, my body shifting to shield her from any potential threat.

She nods, her trust in me evident in her gaze. I take a deep breath, my senses heightened, my mind shifting into the focused state of a trained operative.

I scan the deck, searching for the source of the disturbance. Passengers scatter, their faces etched with panic as they rush for safety. Amidst the chaos, I spot two armed men, their faces concealed behind dark masks and bodies encased in tactical armor. They move with purpose toward the center of the ship.

Their movements are coordinated, their actions precise. There’s a level of skill and discipline in their approach that sets off alarm bells in my head.

They systematically round up the passengers, herding them into a corner of the deck. They bark orders, their voices harsh and commanding, but they haven’t fired a single shot.

As if they’re trying to minimize the risk of casualties.

My mind races, trying to make sense of the situation. If this were a typical raid, they would be more focused on looting and causing chaos, but these men seem to have a specific target in mind, a purpose that goes beyond mere theft.

Mia.

Red Phoenix.

They’re here.

It’s the only explanation that makes sense, given the timing of the attack and the way they’re moving through the ship. I glance down at Mia, her face pale, her body trembling against mine. I have to act fast and keep her safe.

I weigh the options and calculate risks. I need to get her to safety and to do it without getting us both killed in the process.

As the armed men draw closer, their footsteps echo on the deck. I tighten my grip on Mia’s hand.

“Do you trust me?” I ask, my voice low and urgent.

“With my life.” She meets my gaze, her eyes filled with fear and determination. Her voice remains steady despite the chaos swirling around us.

“Then stay close and be ready to move when I say so.”

With those words, I step forward, my body poised for action, my mind focused on the task at hand.

I don’t hesitate, launching myself at them with the full force of my body. My fists fly, connecting with flesh and bone, as I engage them in fierce hand-to-hand combat. I used to fight MMA competitively and put all that training to use.

There are two of them, but I fight with everything I know, giving them a run for their money. The first attacker comes at me with a vicious swing, but I dodge the blow and counter with a swift uppercut to his jaw. He staggers back, momentarily stunned, but his comrade is quick to take his place.

I bob and weave, my body moving on instinct as I fend off their attacks. The deck becomes a blur of motion, a whirlwind of strikes and countermoves, as I fight with every ounce of strength and skill I possess.

The sound of grunts and the impact of flesh against flesh fill the air, mingling with the panicked screams of the passengers. I block out the noise, my focus narrowed to the men in front of me, to the fight at hand.

I take them simultaneously, my body a blur of motion as I dodge, block, and strike. I land a devastating kick to one man’skneecap, sending him crumpling to the ground in agony. The attacker lands a glancing blow to my ribs, the pain exploding through my body, but I push through it, retaliating with a series of rapid-fire punches that send him reeling.

I frantically scan the deck, searching for Mia. I lost her in the chaos. A sickening sense of dread settles in the pit of my stomach, a fear that I may have already failed her, but I can’t let that thought consume me.

I can’t let it distract me from the battle at hand.

I redouble my efforts, my movements becoming more aggressive. I lash out with a flurry of kicks and punches, my body a whirlwind of motion as I fight to clear a path through the attackers.

But they keep coming, their determination unwavering. The first flicker of fatigue creeps into my muscles. They don’t have to take me out. All they have to do is wear me down.

Adrenaline courses through my veins, the familiar rush of combat I’ve experienced countless times before.

But this time, it’s different.

This time, I’m fighting for Mia.

Just as I’m about to take down one of the attackers for good, I catch a glimpse of movement from the corner of my eye. I turn, my heart leaping into my throat, just in time to see a third man emerge onto the deck. In the blink of an eye, I assess the situation, my trained instincts kicking into overdrive.