03:29
The plane shook again, harder than before, as if some invisible hand had grabbed the fuselage and yanked it downward. The nose pitched at an angle steep enough to make loose objects slide across the metal floor. Cargo straps groaned, and the sound of rattling bolts echoed through the cavernous bay.
Leon had forced his way into the cockpit by then, teeth clenched, hands clutching the controls as though his life depended on it — because it did. He wrestled the yoke back, pulling the nose up to gain whatever altitude he could. The hydraulics screamed. The plane fought him like a beast that wanted to plunge into the black void below. Finally, the bird levelled, if only for a moment.
The turbulence had thrown Lee off his feet. He stumbled, hit the edge of a crate, and fell awkwardly to the floor. In that split second of chaos, Sohel heard a sound that tore through him — Mitali's scream. He spun around and saw her sliding helplessly down the tilted deck, her hands clawing for purchase, rolling toward the ramp at the back.
Before she could slide out, Lee lunged, his hand snapping around her arm. He yanked her upright, pulling her into his chest and clamping a forearm around her throat. Her pistol clattered away across the metal floor. Lee was panting, but his grip was iron. He used her like a shield, moving cautiously toward Sohel, one step at a time, despite the plane's violent tremors.
Sohel raised his weapon but couldn't find an angle. One wrong move and the bullet meant for Lee would tear through Mitali. Lee's eyes were sharp, his smirk cruel, daring Sohel to risk it. He pressed the barrel of his pistol against Mitali's temple and jerked his chin toward the cockpit.
Sohel's jaw clenched. He lowered his weapon and moved as instructed, forcing himself into the copilot's seat beside Leon. Lee pushed Mitali ahead of him, keeping her as a barrier while he stepped in behind them. He glanced at the radar screen, then back at the cabin clock. His voice was calm, almost gleeful.
"Six minutes till payload drop. Lower the plane."
The words hit Sohel like ice. He looked down through the windscreen. Below them, the Volga River stretched wide and black, gleaming faintly in the moonlight like a curtain of ink. That was the target.
"One minute," Lee corrected himself, tightening his hold on Mitali's throat with one hand while the other hovered over the bomb-rack release. His finger twitched close to the button, eager.
Then the plane shuddered again, harder than before. The violent motion threw Lee sideways, his grip loosening just slightly — but enough.
Sohel and Leon didn't hesitate. Both lunged at him at once, moving on pure instinct. Sohel swung his bionic arm in a sharp chop aimed at Lee's wrist. The strike landed with a metallic thud, sending a jolt of pain through Lee and forcing him to release Mitali. Sohel seized her instantly, pulling her clear, and dived with her out of the cockpit doorway.
Leon didn't stop. He hurled his whole body forward, fists hammering down on Lee's face. One, two, three brutal punches. Lee reeled, blood spraying from his nose, his lips splitting under the assault. For a moment, Leon looked like he might overpower him. But Lee was a monster built for survival. He caught Leon's fist mid-swing, twisted savagely, and reached for the Glock on his hip.
There was no time to react. The muzzle pressed against Leon's forehead, and the shot cracked like thunder inside the cabin. The bullet tore through bone and brain. Leon's body jerked once, then went limp. He crumpled like a ragdoll, collapsing into a heap at Lee's feet.
The sound froze Sohel and Mitali where they crouched by the crates. Their eyes widened, horror burning into their faces. Leon, their comrade, was gone — just like that.
Lee emerged from the cockpit, his face smeared with blood but twisted into a grim smile. He dragged Leon's lifeless body forward and, with a contemptuous grunt, flung it aside. The corpse hit the floor with a dull thud, rolling slightly before coming to rest.
Something snapped inside Sohel. The memories rushed in all at once — the humiliation of the captured girls, the cruel smile on Liora's face, the SNA soldiers executed without dignity, Leon's sacrifice. Rage consumed him, bright and blinding. He roared and launched himself at Lee.
The two collided in the narrow aisle with the force of colliding beasts. Sohel wrapped both arms around Lee, driving him backward. His bionic arm pistoned, smashing into Lee's ribs and jaw again and again. Lee grunted but countered with equal fury, throwing elbows, grappling, twisting. The cabin became a battlefield, every surface a weapon.
They crashed into bomb racks, slammed against crates, and rolled across the floor. Sohel fought like a man possessed, every punch driven by fury and grief. His knuckles split, his breath came ragged, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.
Lee fought just as viciously, his strength monstrous, his endurance unnatural. He shoved Sohel off, then dragged him back into another grapple. Both men strained, muscles screaming, blood smearing the deck.
Then, above the chaos, Mitali's voice rang out, sharp and desperate. "Sohel — jump!"
He didn't think. He trusted her without hesitation. He broke free and rolled away, sprawling onto the floor, chest heaving.
Three gunshots cracked in rapid succession. The noise split the cabin, deafening in the metal chamber. Lee's body jerked violently each time, blood blooming across his chest. His eyes went wide for a heartbeat, then glazed over. He toppled backward, hit the floor with a heavy thump, and lay still.
Silence followed, broken only by the drone of the engines and the rush of air through the fuselage.
Sohel pushed himself up, panting, his body trembling. His gaze slid to Leon's body, sprawled unnaturally on the floor. He walked to him slowly, every step heavy. He crouched, lowered his head, and bowed in silent respect. "A true undead," he whispered. Mitali joined him, her own eyes wet as she bent her head.
With steady hands, Sohel unclipped Leon's dog tag, the small piece of metal still warm from his body. He slipped it into his pocket. A memory, a burden, a promise.
Then he turned to Mitali. "We need to jump. Now."
They ran to the parachute rack — only to find one chute. It had been meant for Lee. Sohel tore it free and shoved it into Mitali's hands.
"Wear it."
She stared at him. "What about you?"
"Ahh. Just wear it." His tone left no room for argument.
Mitali didn't waste time. She strapped it on with shaking hands while Sohel punched the ramp release. The massive door groaned and opened, revealing a night sky stretching endlessly, stars glimmering above and the shadow of mountains below.
Sohel pulled Mitali into a fierce embrace. "Okay. We jump together. Don't drop me, yeah?"
Mitali managed a nervous laugh. "Got you."
They leapt.
The world became a roar of wind and cold. Their bodies tumbled into the abyss, spinning under the weight of gravity. Mitali yanked the ripcord. The chute exploded open above them, jerking them hard. The sudden deceleration almost ripped Sohel from her arms. His grip faltered, his fingers slipping. He felt himself tearing away — until Mitali clamped down, her arms a desperate cage around him.
"Got you," she said again, voice trembling but fierce.
Behind them, the aircraft banked sharply, its engines screaming. It smashed into a mountain ridge with a fiery explosion. The blast lit the night sky, a ball of orange and red consuming the fuselage. The echo rumbled across the peaks.
Sohel watched the fireball, his voice flat but tinged with grim humour. "The Urals just lost one of their brothers."
They drifted lower, descending toward the black water. At twenty feet above the surface, Sohel let go. He plunged alone, hitting the water hard, the cold shocking him awake. Mitali ditched her harness and chute before the fabric could drag her under. Both swam for shore, strokes desperate but steady.
When they finally crawled onto sand, their limbs felt like stone. They collapsed side by side, chests heaving. For long moments, they said nothing, only listening to the sound of waves lapping the shore.
"For real, Sohel," Mitali whispered at last. Her voice shook with exhaustion, but there was a thread of wonder in it too. "Why is it that whenever I'm with you, the most unbelievable things happen?"
Sohel let out a ragged laugh, rolling onto his back. "Curse my fate, I guess. And… thanks for the parachute lift."
They lay there in silence again. But the quiet didn't last. Mitali's voice came softer this time, almost breaking. "Poor Leon. Couldn't even get a proper funeral."
Sohel touched the dog tag in his pocket. His reply was steady, filled with quiet respect. "He was brave. Too brave for a man who spent his life trying to escape the frontlines. A true undead."
Mitali turned to him. "So what now?"
"We need a phone," Sohel said. His voice was already steel again. "The ekranoplan is still heading toward London."
They forced their weary bodies upright and started walking inland. For thirty minutes they trudged through the dark countryside until a cluster of faint lights resolved into a village. Knocking on doors, they found suspicion at first, then pity. An old man finally let them in and pointed them to a battered landline.
Sohel dialled. The moment the line clicked alive, his voice hardened. "Hello, Alpha One here. We'll talk later about everything, but you need to act now. An ekranoplan carrying nuclear warheads is heading for London. Move fast. And send an exfil for us. Alpha One out."
He slammed the receiver down before Arash could reply.
Turning back to the man, he bowed his head. "Thank you."
Then he stepped into the cool night again, Mitali at his side, the weight of loss heavy on them both. The night smelt of dust, smoke, and fire from the wreck behind them. Ahead, only uncertainty — and the ticking of the clock.