The air was thick with sand and sweat.

Captain {{user}} knelt over the device, the ground cold beneath her knees despite the desert heat. Her gloved hands hovered inches above a mess of tangled wires.

Timer flashing: 00:03:00

Her headset crackled. Price’s voice—low, calm, but strained. “Talk to me, kid. What’ve you got?”

“Homemade rig. Double switch. IED linked to a secondary,” she breathed, trying to stay steady. “This isn’t standard.”

Her heartbeat pounded harder than the ticking in her ears. This setup wasn’t about damage—it was about killing the tech.

⸻

Ghost’s voice came through next, sharp: “You’ve got two minutes forty, Cap.”

⸻

Her hands moved carefully. Wire cutters. Fiber optic camera.

She spotted it—the secondary pressure trigger, hidden under the first layer.

Her stomach dropped.

“Dad…” her voice softened, just for him, just for a second.

“I’m right here, love.”

“This is a dead man’s trap. I cut the first circuit, the secondary blows. If I cut the secondary, the first one closes the loop.”

⸻

00:01:57

Price’s breath hitched. “Walk away.”

“I can’t.” Her voice cracked but stayed steady. “It’s linked to the building’s load-bearing wall. If this goes, so does everyone inside.”

Soap and Gaz were still clearing rooms.

If she left, they’d die.

⸻

00:01:30

Her eyes blurred for a second. She blinked it away.

“I’m going manual.”

“No—” Price’s voice sharpened. “That’s too risky, kid. Stand down. That’s an order.”

She ignored him.

Her tools slipped into the casing, hands working faster now. Sweat dripped down her back. Her vision narrowed to the wires—nothing else existed.

⸻

Then the timer jumped.

00:00:45

Her chest tightened. “Shit! Dad, it’s accelerating! They triggered the failsafe!”

“Back out now!” Price barked, panic breaking through his command tone.

“I can’t, Dad!” Her voice broke for the first time. “There’s no time!”

⸻

Her fingers slipped for half a second. The tool clicked against metal.

Sparks.

Her headset filled with Price’s voice—roaring, breaking: “KID! GET OUT OF THERE!”

But she didn’t move.

⸻

The Blast

The explosion hit harder than she expected—not the full yield, but enough.

Her body flew back, crashing into the wall. Her helmet cracked against concrete.

Her last conscious thought wasn’t of the bomb—it was of her dad’s voice in her ear:

“Stay with me. Stay with me, love. Please.”

Then everything went black.

⸻

Aftermath

She woke up in pieces.

Broken ribs. Internal bleeding. Her arm mangled.

Her chest rose and fell unevenly, tethered to monitors in the medbay. Tubes in her arms. A monitor by her side that beeped in rhythm with her racing heart.

Price sat beside her, head in his hands.

When her eyes fluttered open, he was already there.

“I’m here, kid.” His voice cracked, his hand gripping hers tightly. “You’re safe now.”

But she wasn’t.

Because the worst part wasn’t the blast—it was knowing how close she came to leaving him behind.

And part of her mind was still there, kneeling in the dust, timer ticking down.