Even the creature under Zubair’s skin hated the idea of being separated from Sera. As far as it was concerned, wherever Sera went, it would go with her.

With or without Zubair’s permission.

There was no longer even a question of leaving her by herself. "When?" he asked, trying to put together a plan of attack.

Lachlan was right. Country M was the third biggest country when it came to landmass. He would need a lot more information if he wanted to properly prepare.

"Now," Sera replied, her answer harsh, preventing any type of argument.

Alexei snorted softly and shrugged his massive shoulders. "Then we go now." He stepped up level with her shoulder so the four of them made a loose box around her again without needing to talk about it. "Where you go, we go."

Sera’s mouth made a small shape that was not a smile and not far from it. She nodded once. She wanted to ask if they were sure that was what they wanted; she didn’t want them following after her out of some misguided idea.

"Okay then," she nodded after a second. Who was she to second guess the decision of four fully grown men? If they wanted to be next to her, she would be an idiot to say no. Especially if they were going to go up against Adam and Hydra.

Elias swept the yard again and cut his chin toward the far side. "There might be something we can use in the hangar. Otherwise, I don’t know how we are going to get off this island."

"Swimming is always an option," chuckled Sera, all the tension in her body disappearing as the four men started to joke amongst themselves.

"We’ll check the hangar first," grunted Alexei. "Shrinkage is very much a thing, and that water is fucking cold." 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

They turned for the massive building that wasn’t fully on fire... yet.

The concrete buckled in places where heat had gotten under it and wanted the ground to fail as well. The tall hangar doors loomed in the dark like a cliff face.

A chain hung on the man-sized side door. The big doors had a wheel control and a dead motor that would never hum again.

Zubair put his hand on the chain. Heat kissed the steel and the links glowed for a moment before dropping in a smoking pile of twisted metal.

Lachlan shouldered the small door. It gave. Cold air rolled out, cut with the dust smell of old machine oil and rubber.

Inside, the dark was deep, high, and still.

Their boots sounded like they were walking inside a drum. NO matter how softly they tried to walk, it echoed all around them.

The fire behind them painted the world at their backs different shades of blue, orange, and red.

The hangar swallowed the light the deeper in they went. If they were anything less than what they were, they wouldn’t be able to see the ribs of roof trusses, the shoulder of a lifted wing, the stacks of crates.

Elias clicked his light once, kept the beam low as it skimmed it across the floor.

Tracks in dust, some fresh, most old. He ran the light along the nearest aircraft: a boxy body with twin rotors and thick landing skids—military transport, pre-ice age, analog gauges by the look of the open cockpit, cable controls instead of fly-by-wire.

"Flyable?" Lachlan asked, raising his light just a bit to show everyone what he was looking at.

Zubair walked to the nose and put his palm to the skin like he was checking a horse’s flank. He listened with his hand. He tilted his head and smiled without showing teeth. "Yes."

Elias swept the beam across the back wall. Fuel drums. Tools. Racks of emergency gear still wrapped in plastic. A case of flares. A crate of harnesses. Another of rations no one here would ever need again.

Alexei skimmed cold along the edges of the fuel drums. No swelling. No leaks. He tapped one with a knuckle. The sound came back right. "We can load what we need." He looked at Sera. "We don’t need much."

She turned her head toward the burning yard and the buildings that were now piles of heat and falling steel. "We don’t need anything," she shrugged, looking back at Zubair. "But that doesn’t mean we need to leave it for the dead."

He nodded once and set to work in the way he did everything...steady and quiet, his hands sure.

He climbed the maintenance stand and pulled the cockpit door.

Dust jumped to the floor in a fine sheet. The seats looked old but well maintained.

The switches sat where he wanted them to be, showing that nothing had gone wrong with the last flight.

The cables lay where they should. He touched a lever. It moved. He touched a gauge. The glass held. He set his hand on the panel and let heat bleed into it until the metal lost the cold that would fight him.

Lachlan dropped his machete point-first into a crate lid, popped it, and hauled two harnesses out by the straps. He threw one to Alexei, one to Elias, and slung the last across his own shoulder.

Elias worked fast, methodical. He checked the rotor hubs by feel, pulled a cover, and spun the head by hand. It turned smooth. Bearings sang the right note. He nodded. "Good."

Alexei circled the transport and made small adjustments to the air as he walked. He wicked the moisture from places that didn’t like it, nudging frost off bolt heads, cooling a cable so it would not bind when Zubair told it to move.

Sera didn’t climb in. She walked the shadow edge one more time, Luci keeping pace by her hip, and counted doors and corners. No guards. No teeth in the dark. No one left here who could try anything smart or stupid.

With a flick of her wrist, she took some of the crates full of supplies and placed them into her space, her eyes narrowing on the rest.

She would leave them be until the guys had taken what they needed, and then she would take the rest. She wasn’t kidding when she said that there was no point in leaving all these things for the dead.