The smoke had barely settled when Jayden lifted Royce carefully from the wreckage of the ruined aircraft, his hands steady despite the chaos still unfolding in the distance. Royce's body was limp, his uniform torn open in several places where metal fragments had sliced through fabric and flesh alike. Blood soaked through his clothes and dripped steadily onto the cracked pavement below, forming dark stains that spread far too quickly for comfort.
Jayden pressed his hand briefly against one of the deeper wounds, not to heal it, not yet, but to slow the bleeding enough to keep him alive.
"Hold on," he said quietly, his voice lower than it had been all day. "You don't get to die now."
He activated his communicator immediately.
"I need a chopper at my coordinates," he ordered. "Medical priority. Immediate evacuation to the island."
The reply came fast, tense and respectful. "Yes, Your Excellency. En route."
