Chapter 123

**Hadassah POV**

The air is thick with the scent of burnt gunpowder. Sasha blinks rapidly, the smoke from the shot wafting past her face, swirling in the air, her ears ringing slightly from the blast. Her hands shake as she lowers the rifle, the weight of her new skill settling into her bones. I nod in approval, a fulsome smile breaking through. I detach from under the barrel of the assault rifle to clap a proud hand on her shoulder before I dart out from behind her to round the corner. I rush past another dead guard, kicking his gun away just as a precaution. I flank the door in a ready stance to remain outside as a lookout. She gets the clue and opens the door to fling herself inside the makeup room I left the little girl in.
I whip the barrel from left to front, aware that there could be hostiles that can ambush me from either side of the corridor at any given moment. Seconds later, I hear Sasha urging the girl to pick up her pace. I don’t know what she said, but that tone is universal.
Sasha appears with the little girl in tow and she looks up at me with a dewy look in those doe-eyes. All I can give is all I can spare is a heartfelt smile and wink before we’re forced to move on. We advance in a single line with me in front, then the little girl and Sasha behind her. We take a corner route that travels the rims of the palace—pathways made for palace servants so they won't be seen by general residents or guests whilst completing chores or deliveries.
And of course, when we reach the section where the elevators are, it’s barricaded by armed men. I poke my head around a corner—a silhouette slices past me and my head darts back. I flinch at the sound of a man’s voice—Sasha grabs the girl by slapping her hand over her mouth to keep her both still and silent, cutting her gasp short. The guard is at the edge of the corridor, talking to someone in his earpiece, likely reporting on their status.
One step forward and he’ll see all three of us. Fortunately, he mutters on, turning away and receding to where the rest of them are localized. I mean, it’s smart. They know it’s our only exit because every alternate, traditional exit like the main front doors, sides and back are heavily reinforced. There’s no need to search for us because if they can’t find where we are now. They will locate where we will be.
I pivot so I can come closer to Sasha and she slants towards me.
“I’m going to cause a distraction,” I inform, laying out the short burst plan. “I’m going to draw as many of them away as possible. You make a break for the elevator with her and wait for me down there.”
Dread washes away the determination that has steeled her features, eroding the tough exterior. “No, you can’t. You will die—”
“Sasha—”
“No,” she interjects with a rough whisper, then adds in a frustrated foreign tirade before switching back to English. “It’s impossible to make through all of that alone.”
“I’ve been told that many times before and yet here I stand to make the same point once again,” I say in a joking voice to try to reassure her. “Doing the impossible for most is just the standard for me.”
She shakes her head at my arrogance. And I start walking backwards with a bashful shrug.
Sasha curses before she motions for the girl to follow her. And she does, but she casts anxious glances back at me before she runs to catch up to Sasha. I double back and before I can even make it back into another corridor. I’m hailed by the ear-piercing echoes of scattered gunfire. Each shot a thunderclap against the lavish walls as I sprint across with my head lowered, adrenaline surging through my veins like a flare of fire. Bullets spray in bursts, chipping away at the columns and sending splinters of stone flying.
I take quick cover, flattening myself against the surface with the reassuring weight of the rifle held to my torso. I give myself three fast and deep breaths before I pop out just long enough to squeeze the trigger, taking out one of the armed guards with a clean shot to the leg. The guard crumples, his rifle skidding across the floor. And two shots to the face sends him crashing onto his back. His comrade avenges him‌ with a ruthless attack, more men flooding in, unleashing a firestorm. The corridor is an echo chamber of chaos, the sharp clang of metal boots pounding against polished floors. Gunfire ricochets off the walls, sparking briefly in the artificial light.
I unfasten one of the grenades and I sink to my haunches.
With one readying breath, I unclip the grenade.
Suddenly, a guard shouts from ahead, his voice barely audible over the roar of bullets. The air shifts—something small, metallic, and spinning rolls into view.
“Flashbang!” someone yells, just as the device explodes in a blinding pulse of light.
The world goes white, searing, and painful. A deafening BANG follows, a sound so violent it feels like the very walls had caved in. The noise fills every inch of the corridor, rattling bones and making the air vibrate with raw energy. Senses shattered. Vision blurred. The ringing in the ears is like a high-pitched scream that won’t fade. They stumble, disoriented, clutching their heads as if the sheer intensity of the blast could be physically contained. But there is no time to recover. I come out to unbridle a storm of my own, an onslaught that strikes them all to the ground, laying waste to eight guards in seconds.
I hack into my arm, coughing harshly, my breaths straining as I vie for a different route, finding myself along the length of another corridor; it's like being inside a shifting prism of mirrors. Each corridor looks identical to the other. A guard appears and before he even thumb the trigger—I catch him in the throat and the sheer force of the shot slams him into a nearby column. The sound of his gargling death is quickly drowned out by more incoming fire.
The hallway ahead is a gauntlet. I crouch low, firing toward the advancing guards before diving behind decorative alcoves for cover. A blaze of pain bites down on the crest of my shoulder. No time to even look. I dart out and release a barrage until I can make it to the right corridor as I race down, the heat of exertion radiating through my body as sweat makes the little clothing I’m wearing drenched, the fabric clinging to my form.
Reaching the last line of defense, I use the last trick in my possession, tossing a smoke grenade ahead. The canister clinks on the floor before billowing thick, gray clouds. The corridor disappears in smoke, giving me precious seconds.
I rush forward, navigating the narrow choke point with brutal efficiency. A guard charges out of the haze, rifle raised—only to be met by a vicious kick to the chest from me. He stumbles back from the crushing elbow to his face before I send him sprawling from a shot center mass and a shot to his forehead.
And I surge toward the elevator.
Finally, I reach the doors. I hit the button for the underground garage, and the elevator lurches to life. As I descend, my heart pounding in sync with the rhythmic hum of the machinery. My back bangs against the metallic surface as I bend over momentarily, breathing heavily. Panting like a dog and the doors eventually pings open. I look up and Sasha, swiping away at her golden spools of hair in disbelief as if she didn’t expect me to see me again—alive. She rushes to me with her barrel of the rifle aimed at the ground to capture me in a desperate embrace. I hold her back with one arm as I catch a glance of the little girl waiting within the threshold of the elevator. I send her back a wink from over Sasha’s shoulder, then she pulls away, freeing me, so I exit first.
But we are nowhere near safe yet.