Prologue

The summer's sun blasted against her pale skin whilst the heat added to the glistening sweat on her face. The man beside her barely kept up, his limp slowing his pace. The pair swiftly descended the gravel path and jumped feet first over the ventilation box for cover; behind them, a hail of gunfire echoed them, leaving a trail of holes in their wake.

"Why did we come here!" The girl questioned, holding her head as the gunshots drew closer.

"We're sitting ducks, Freyja! We need to do something fast." The man replied.

Freyja looked around, attempting to find some safe escape using the logical mindset that had gotten her out of many situations before. But it was of no use now. The deadly striking gunfire began to reach them, the ricocheting bullets edging closer to their feet. Freyja reached into the pouch on her belt, hoping for one final smoke bomb. But not one remained.

"Mark!" Freyja exclaimed, looking over at her husband, who was losing his dark tan into a pale complexity, much like her own. He had lost too much blood from the bullet wound in his leg. Before Freyja had time to think of a way to escape with Mark, the men approaching launched a grenade, causing her hair to sway from the wind.

Without a second thought, she stopped thinking logically and relied on her survival instincts and the training she wore like a badge of honour. As the adrenaline pumped thoroughly through her body, time almost slowed to a stop and gave her a split second to survey her surroundings. Freyja knew the only way out was down. She sprinted with all the strength she could muster towards the shallow wall that held a steep drop to the cars and busy street below. Surging forward and jumping over like a runner against a hurdle, she sprang forward with might; with the burning blast of the explosion behind her, she attempted to arch her back and spread her arms - her mind praying she would make it out alive.