09:02 — Front Yard
Naser sprinted across the sunlit yard, his eyes fixed on the waiting helicopter. The rotors were already spinning, preparing for takeoff. Sweat dripped down his forehead, but frustration twisted his face.
"What's wrong with them?" he shouted to himself, panting hard. "Why won't these bullets kill them?"
Behind him, four heavily armed gunmen closed in, their footsteps pounding against the concrete.
Naser was mere meters from the helicopter when a soft yet chilling voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Stop."
He whirled around.
At the exit of the North building stood Naomi, her figure poised and unyielding. A faint, confident smile curled on her lips as she held a knife in one hand, blade gleaming under the early morning sun.
The guards aimed their rifles at her—but their fingers trembled, hesitation rooting them in place.
Naser's eyes narrowed, and he stumbled backward a few steps.
"STOP HER!" he barked.
Without waiting, he turned and dashed toward the helicopter again.
Naomi, calm and focused, started running too.
By the time Naomi reached the guards, he was already climbing aboard the helicopter. The pilot's hands were steady on the controls.
"Fly!" Naser commanded.
Bullets ripped through the air toward Naomi, but with a quick glance, she saw the futile sparks as the bullets bounced off her Kevlar-clad body.
The guards, growing desperate, discarded their weapons and lunged at Naomi.
She reacted instantly.
A guard barreled toward her; Naomi plunged the knife into his chest. He crumpled, lifeless.
Without missing a beat, she yanked the blade free and faced the remaining three attackers.
They launched themselves at her in unison.
Naomi ducked under a wild punch from the left, sliding backward to evade two others coming at her from opposite sides.
With practiced precision, she flipped the knife into a reverse grip and charged.
She sprinted past one assailant, slashing his throat open before ducking a furious swing from another.
A powerful kick sent the second attacker sprawling.
She leapt onto his back and sank her knife into his neck; he went limp beneath her.
The last guard turned, scrambling back toward the dropped weapons.
"No, you don't," Naomi whispered, releasing her knife.
It flew true, stabbing the guard squarely in the back. He collapsed silently.
Naomi looked down at the two men she'd just subdued, then slowly stood.
She allowed herself a small smile as she watched the helicopter retreating into the sky.
---
Inside the Helicopter
The hum of the rotors was the only sound in the cramped cabin.
Naser exhaled deeply, feeling relief as the ground fell away beneath them.
The pilot glanced over, voice calm but firm.
"Where to, boss?"
Naser loosened his necktie, a slow smile creeping across his face.
"Dhaka. To my home. I need to clean up the place before I leave."
Suddenly, a cold metal cylinder pressed against the side of his head—a pistol silencer.
"Sohel?" Naser's voice cracked with disbelief. "How… when did you get on this chopper?"
Sohel shoved Naser's head roughly with the gun and said, "I think you should worry about something a lot more serious."
He paused, then leveled the pistol and said, "You have two choices. One: land the helicopter back at the plant and surrender to the authorities. Or two: I kill you right here, right now."
Sweat beaded on Naser's forehead. His eyes darted wildly.
Sohel's voice hardened. "I'll count to three. Tell the pilot to turn this bird around, or I pull the trigger. One... Two... Three."
Just as Sohel squeezed the trigger, the pilot abruptly yanked the controls hard to the side.
The sudden jolt threw Sohel off balance.
His shot missed, ricocheting off the helicopter's ceiling and striking the pilot's neck.
The pilot slumped dead.
The helicopter lurched uncontrollably, plunging toward the highway below.
Naser lunged at Sohel, grappling fiercely.
Sohel struggled to shake him off and reach the controls, but Naser clung tight.
The helicopter crashed violently onto the highway, metal screeching and glass shattering.
Before everything went dark, Sohel felt the warmth of his own blood pouring down his left arm.