The pilot shouts back at me. “Are you sure you’re ready to move in? It might be safer to wait for confirmation from the men on ground.” He’s right, but we have no time so I shake my head and direct him to approach.
We swing in on what I presume to be the third wing of the building and through the sealed windows, I see women desperate for escape waving at me from their cells. But where’s Misty? I squint, trying to make out her features among the scared, haunted faces.
“Block three, cell A.” I chant those words in my mind. Where the fuck is she? Suddenly, realization hits.
I mapped it backwards!
“She’s in the corner cell! Left, left!” I shout to the pilot.
“I can’t go near that one. I’ll have to approach from overhead and drop a ladder for you. How are your rappelling skills, sir?”
“I’m fine. Move in, pilot.”
The Blackhawk finds a spot and hovers as I throw down a rope. Then I descend before edging my toes onto the ledge of a window. I peer inside, while still holding tight to the ladder and sure enough, there’s Misty. Her hands are pressed to her cheeks and she’s crying with relief and fear, her face ghastly white. My heart breaks open, but there’s work to do.
I motion for her to back away, and she wraps her hands protectively around her belly as she does, looking out into the halls with pure terror stamped across her tear-stained face. It kills me to see her like this.
Then, something must happen behind her because she stumbles backwards and begins to cry harder, her fear palpable. My heart races and I act as fast I possibly can. The sergeant has equipped me with a halligan and maul to take on the cell bars. I didn’t anticipate using them from this odd angle, but it’s fine. I’m going to make this happen. I need to save the woman I love, and I’ll break my own arm if that’s what it takes to get Misty out of here.
I begin to pry at the bars. Wrapping my leg around the rope of the ladder for balance, I slam the maul down against the halligan with all the brute force I can manage. Each blow sends me twisting in a new direction, but I don’t care. I slam it once, twice, three times. The bars bend but do not break.
I look up to see Misty has fallen to her knees on the floor. Her hands have moved from her belly to her ears, and tears seep from behind her tightly closed eyes. The pounding is loud, and she knows the guards are coming.
Then, she screams and her eyes are wide with fright. My lovely girl scuttles to the far corner of the room, and I don’t have to look. I know they’re here. She screams again, the most piercing, frightful sound I’ve ever heard in all of my existence. I hear her cries over the whup-whup of the Blackhawk, and my bones shake.
Then, determination takes over. It fills my blood, my organs, my mind, and my soul. It feels as if all of my existence has been reduced to this moment. Time rockets forward and my body moves before my brain says go.
I slam my shoulder into the bars using brute force and amazingly, they crack in the middle. I tear them from the masonry and throw the maul inside, providing Misty with a weapon should she need it.
“Come!” I roar. I see her cell door slide open, and a large man steps inside. He stops to look at me, buying her the moment she needs to dash to the window.
“You lying whore!” he screams, his face red with rage. Then, the guard lunges in her direction, but Misty darts away. She’s surprisingly light on her feet despite being pregnant, and manages to dance out of his reach. But the man is fast, and I know my window of opportunity is small. I have to act now.
I grab the remaining bar and pull myself closer to the window. She’s coming my direction, and with one swift move, I scoop an arm around her waist and forcibly yank her through the window, pulling her out. She bumps into the ledge hard with her hip and lets out a breathless oof, but we have to get out of here fast.
Then, the helicopter is moving again, and we’re swinging violently on the rope ladder. We glide above the prison even as Misty screams again, but it’s okay. We’re safe now. Slowly, I begin a one-armed climb up the rope, my other hand wrapped tightly around her waist. We reach the top, and exhausted, I pass Misty to a fellow soldier who pulls her in to safety. I climb in behind her, collapsing on the floor of the help even as adrenaline continues to surge through my veins.