Page 49 of Aryan

“I needed target practice, but this shit is getting old,” True says, taking out another four men.

“More are getting behind us!” Eliza says.

“Hey Asher, once we make it out of this, hurry up and get those tunnels done,” Josh says.

“That will be one of the first things on my list,” he says. More shots start coming from the back, and we shift into two teams, one to protect the front and the second to protect the back.

“Let’s finish this,” Atlas says.

“Why didn’t we make the windows bulletproof again?”

“Because we never thought anyone would be so bold and stupid to try to hit us at home,” I say.

“Guess the joke is on us,” Asher says. Suddenly the gunfire stops.

“The movement outside has stopped, but not all of them are dead,” Emerson says through the speaker.

“Maybe they are waiting on reinforcements,” Jabarri says.

“Check-in!” Josh says, and everyone sounds off safe.

“Aryan,” Brooklyn’s voice gets my attention immediately.

“I think my water broke,” she says, standing there holding her stomach, and I move to her.

“Baby, are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she says and grimaces as a contraction hits her hard.

“Whatever we are going to do, we better do it now. It is not going to remain quiet for long,” Joseph says, and as if he conjured it the gunfire opens up.

“Aryan, get her out of here! Emerson is going to cover your exit, and Lennox is sending the medi-copter. Take her and go,” Josh says.

“Come on. We will get you to the backfield,” True and Atlas say, ready to escort us out.

“Can you walk, baby?”

“To protect my child, hell yeah!” she says, reloading her gun and stuffing a few clips in her bra before making her way to the back of the house.

“Now, Emerson,” Josh says, and there are several explosions that go off, and we head out the back as quickly and quietly as possible. We make it a good distance without issue, but just as I think we may make it, gunfire opens up.

“You guys are almost clear. We’ll hold them off,” Atlas says as he and True move back-to-back, arms raised to together, shooting. They shoot, turn, and shoot some more in perfect unison. They are one of the deadliest couples I have ever known. Brooklyn and I move further away in the darkness when a contraction hits Brooklyn so hard she drops to her knees from the pain. I immediately go to her, dropping both of my guns to help her, when a man steps out from the shadows, his gun trained on us, and I freeze.

Before I can move, Brooklyn has pulls a gun from her bra and shoots him in the head. “Come on, we have to get to the meeting point, I can’t miss that helicopter,” she says while struggling to get back to her feet. We move farther away from the house until we are just about at the meeting point when another contraction hits, and she falls to her knees and onto her back. “I can’t go any further, Aryan. She’s coming,” she pants, and I panic.

“Please, Brooklyn, don’t do this to me. Please wait until Lennox gets here,” I tell her having a flashback of Sophia going into labor in the middle of the night with no help. She’s early, the pregnancy is still viable, but the baby may need assistance. “If I lose you two, I won’t make it, please, mo shlánú. I can’t.” I say and then reach for my gun, realizing it's too far away when Nabeck comes out from the shadows holding a gun on us.

“Nabeck, you came for your grandson, but you may end up killing him. How did you find him anyways,” I say, trying to distract him so I try to reach a weapon.

“Sophia made a call back home, and I was able to trace her back here. It took me a while to get into the United States, but once I was here it was easy to find men who would kill anyone for the right amount of money. I will say you guys put up a better fight than I expected, I saw you too leave I thought you were Sophia and Salove, so I followed. So here we are, you and here on the verge of dying, maybe I will wait until she has the baby so you can atleast meet the baby before you die,”

“And what if we kill you first?”

“The men I have hired are paid to kill you no matter what, even if I am dead,”

“And if we kill all of them?” I ask, inching closer to my weapon. Brooklyn is in full-fledged labor on the ground, and it’s killing me that I can’t help her.

“Just a few of you? Kill over fifty men? I find that highly unlikely,” he says smugly. “And if you want her to live for a few minutes longer, I suggest you stop moving,” he yells. “Either way, you and the woman will die for keeping my blood from m…” he never finishes the sentence due to his head no longer being attached to his shoulder. We are almost a mile and a half away from the house, and Emerson made the shot at night with no light. Now she is terrifying.