Chapter 125

**Hadassah POV**

The two viano vans tear down the narrow, winding road, swallowed by the shadows of the thick forest on either side. The trees loom like dark giants, their branches interlocking above, blocking out most of the pale moonlight. Headlights carve a jagged path through the night, illuminating fleeting glimpses of undergrowth as they hurtle forward, the engines roaring against the eerie quiet of the woods.
Sasha clings to the little girl with her arms locked around her. “Where are you going?”
“I’d be lying if I said I knew.” I sneak a glance at the little one. “Hey, what’s her name, anyway?”
“Anya,” she informs with a hopeful smile.
Anya perks up from the sound of her name, and Sasha quickly translates what I had asked. She listens with an attentive nod and replies tersely. With knotted brows, I glance at her again, then back at Sasha inquisitively.
“What did she say?”
Sasha’s smile brightens. “I added that you’re still trying to figure out what happens now. And she says, it doesn’t matter much to her anymore. Because she feels safe around you.” Sasha meets my gaze with her sea-green eyes. “I too share that feeling.”
Suddenly, the van at the back skids. Tires screech as Emilia slams on the brakes, the vehicle lurching violently. I glance at the rearview mirror—mostly blinding white light. But I can discern enough with Emilia’s eyes haunted by something in the trees, something hidden. She throws the van into reverse, the engine growling in protest as the vehicle jerks backward, headlights swinging wildly. Without hesitation, she veers sharply off the road, plunging into the dense forest, leaves and branches whipping against the windshield.
“What’s happening?” Sasha screams from a burst of panic. “Did they find us already?”
Her panic is an emotional blow to Anya’s fragile composure as she implodes into a heart-wrenching cry. I brake hard, jolting the van to a jarring stop. I peer again into the rearview mirror, my gut twists. A decision flickers in my mind. And I slam the van into reverse, tires spinning, dirt and gravel flying in all directions as I pull back to follow Emilia into the trees.
Branches snap and crack beneath the tires as both vans barrel through the undergrowth, weaving between thick trunks, headlights cutting through the darkness like twin blades of light.
I don’t know what she saw but it must be damning for her to not only risk ours, but endanger the lives of all the women. The forest seems to close in around us, my ears pierced by the sound of Anya’s screaming cries from just the mere mention of possibly being recaptured. Every second feels like a heartbeat too long. The soul-splitting scream between the roar of the engines and the crunch of the earth beneath us beyond unnerving.
And finally, I see what spooked Emilia—unmarked vans, barely visible in the dark, their silhouettes blending into the forest. The first van brakes suddenly, coming to a hard stop in a small clearing. And I follow suit, skidding to a halt behind it, engines idling in the dark. Even the air feels wrong—too still, too cold. Emilia climbs out, dazed, staring out at something absently as she hurries over.
“Stay here.”
Sasha grabs my arm pleadingly, golden curls bumbling as she shakes her head fervently.
“No, please don’t leave us alone.”
“I’m just going to check what’s going on,” I say, brushing my hand down the back of Anya’s head, fingers slipping through her seamless strands. “I’ll be back, I promise. Nothing could stop me from keeping my promises.”
I climb out, and as I step out, my bare feet sink into the damp soil, the weight of the night pressing down on me. Something hangs in the air—an oppressive, unspoken dread. A hint of something rancid—a smell like a growing pool to wash over the entire expanse, acrid and metallic. With the headlights of both vans on, pushing the darkness back, beams cut through the trees to reveal a nightmare. Blood and gore splattered on tree trunks and undergrowth.
Bodies.
Everywhere.
Sprawled across the forest floor, limbs twisted at impossible angles, faces frozen in expressions of shock and terror. Black tactical gear marks them as SWAT—helmets knocked askew, rifles still clutched in some stiff hands and others scattered afar. Blood stains the earth, bathing in death. And some of them had been sliced open, vests and gear removed so that a blade could savagely tear through the torso, gutted open to the point, entrails spill out of their bodies—leaking out is literal intestines like raw sausage, squishy and glistening with indistinguishable body fluids.
My stomach lurches and I scramble back to vomit away from the bodies. Revulsion wrings out an uncontrollable gush, and that snaps Emila out of her daze. She swiftly swipes my hair away and holds it into a ponytail behind my back with her hands. I undo the slutty corset style suit vest, leaving me in nothing but a bra that only covers my tits so that I can wipe away the slivers of vomit wet around my mouth.
Emilia eases away to inspect further, petrified. The stench of a slaughter fouls the forest air, thick and suffocating. All of it, it’s a message… for me. Emilia moves forward, head swiveling as an idle hand finds her mouth for a moment, horrified by the sight of a barbaric massacre. Headlight beams reveal bullet casings littering the ground, the unmistakable signs of a firefight. More like open fire. Most of their mags are full, which means they didn’t even get a shot off. And that alludes to the fact that the ambush took them utterly by surprise.
Emilia glitches as she rotates with sickened slowness. “Couldn’t have been Armend’s men—they’re all on palace grounds,” she ruminates, as if trying to make sense of this senseless savagery. And she splutters, when she says, “W—what monster would have done this?”
“Not a monster,” I say into the material, muffling my words. I let the garment drop from my face to the floor numbly. “A man.”
I look quickly to point at the men who were gutted alive, split open in two with gaping stomachs. “Those… incisions were done by a Tsuka sword.”
Emilia’s eyes flick up to stare back at me questioningly. “How could you know that?”
“I’ve seen it,” I breathe. Louder, I try, “You were right. The CIA came running as soon as your agency leaked our location, and they were using this point as a staging area. Surveil and wait until they would be sanctioned by the higher ups that they could advance once it was confirmed that we were part of the batch who were rounded up.”
Emilia nods impatiently. “That I can link together. But how do you know who attacked them?”
“It was Ori—”
My voice breaks from even trying to utter his name.
A flare of fear in her eyes as she starts nodding, each one growing more feverish. “No, that makes sense. We baited Armend’s forces with a false call and it ended up to be real. It makes sense why there weren’t more squads guarding the egress—they were all occupied by the attack—we missed them by fractions.”
I start backing away. “And soon enough, he’s going to figure out we escaped.”
Emilia jogs up to me. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Dread drapes over my mind, silencing my senses that I didn’t even realize I had stopped moving. Fear splices into me, lancing through my bones with a burning pain that agonizes me more than the bullet—an actual flesh wound. Fear tormenting me with images that terrorize my mind. The darkness becomes so tangible, untamable, unbearable, as if it manifests the weight to bear down on me excruciatingly—the air thinning out in my lungs.
Emilia grabs my shoulders and gives me a vigorous shake. “Hadassah!”
I grab her wrists, trying to anchor myself to reality.
She releases and examines me with a worrisome look.
“I’m—I’m good,” I say, waving a hand dismissively.
She gives me an incredulous look but knows better than to say another more about it.
“Where the hell do we even go?” Something within me that picks up the fragments of mind once more.
Emilia nods reassuringly. “I got that handled. I just need one internet session. Fortunately, Calum backup plans have backup plans.”
“I know,” I blurt harshly. “We’ve known each other our whole lives—so there’s nothing I don’t know about him or his plans, so do us all the favor. And get to the point.”
Emilia merely blinks at the outburst and pauses to let the tension diffuse.
“Calum siphoned off money from his primary account to funnel funds to an offshore account—an emergency account. It’s not a lot but enough to carry us and the girls for a time—until I can reach the agency to transport them.”
My eyes swell wider and she raises a placating hand. “They won’t get deported back, obviously. For now, they’ll probably get taken to protective custody—safe houses. They will be safe,” she vows with comforting certainty. Then she falters suddenly. “Us, on the other hand… that’s a whole other situation.”