The General's Daughter: The Mission-Chapter 53: Into Her Domain

They traveled all night.

No one talked.

Just the catamaran’s engine noise and the rattle of metal every time the boat hit a boulder.

Shay slept against Lara’s chest, sweaty and restless.

Sandro tried to stay awake the whole time, pretending not to be scared. Of course, he failed miserably and fell asleep as soon as Shay slept.

Every few minutes, the man with the gruff voice would peek at their door, ensuring that they were still there.

By the time gray light bled through the cracks in the boat’s walls, Lara’s body ached and grew numb.

The boat slowed. Then stopped.

One of the doors swung open.

Cold air rushed in.

Lara stood ensuring that Shay was not disturbed.

She looked out of the window from the tiny room they were locked in.

They were at a bend in the river — the kind of place no ordinary boat would dare pass.

Too wild. Too hidden. Too easy to dump something you didn’t want found.

The banks squeezed tight here, like the water was being strangled between them.

Downstream—

Water exploded over rocks. Roaring. Violent.

White foam crashing through the narrow channel as if it were angry at the world.

If somebody fell in there? They wouldn’t float. They’d disappear.

The opposite bank rose up hard and ugly — steep dirt, loose stone, thorn bushes clawing at the sky.

There were no paths. No footprints. Just wild vegetation.

Not like the softer marshy side on the other side

Her stomach twisted. This wasn’t a transfer point. This was making sure no one could track them.

A path to a hiding place.

Or worse, a dumping ground.

Were they going to be killed?

She stepped closer to the edge before she could stop herself.

She looked down at the dark water. It was too dark and moving too fast.

And then—a memory hit.

Not soft, nor gentle, but violent

Like someone shoved her head underwater.

A woman... dark-skinned and slick with river water.

Eyes wide with pure panic. She was thrashing and fighting.

Hands slicing the surface, trying to grab anything — but nothing.

The ground had vanished beneath her feet. The river swallowed her whole.

Then she caught a piece of driftwood, clung to it like it was life itself.

The current yanked her sideways, tried to rip her arms out of their sockets.

But there was a rope, tied tightly around her waist, and the only reason Reya didn’t disappear.

The only thing that kept Reya from getting dragged under and shredded by the current.

The only reason she didn’t die.

Earlier, Lara had thrown the knife to be used as an anchor.

It flew across the river and buried itself deep into the trunk of a fat old tree on the opposite bank.

It was not a miss nor luck.

The blade sank so hard that only the hilt showed. Fifteen centimeters of steel swallowed by wood and rope tied to it. Solid. Unmoving. An anchor.

And now—

They were standing at the same damn stretch of river. Like the past had circled back to collect a debt.

"Hurry up!" a voice boomed behind them. "We’re crossing now." It was the man with the gruff voice whom Lara nicknamed Gruffy.

Birds exploded out of the trees, wings flapping wildly, disturbed by the loud voice that rivaled a lion’s roar.

Even the forest didn’t like that man.

Lara blinked hard. Dragged herself back to the present.

Focus. She murmured!

Stay alive first. Then think of those memories later.

Gruffy and the teenager shoved a narrow plank out from the side of the catamaran.

A makeshift bridge —just two warped boards tied together with rope.

It sagged in the middle over the rushing water.

It was obvious it was cheap and unstable. One wrong step and you’d be gone.

Once you fell down, there was no rescue. The body would be swallowed by the swirling current.

Lara’s chest tightened. She glanced at Shay, who was still half-asleep. She settled her on her back, secured by a strip of cloth she cut from a linen in the tiny room.

"Move," the tall man, probably the leader, snapped.

She stepped onto the plank. It dipped hard under her weight.

Water roared beneath her feet.

Close. Too close.

Shay clung to her back, arms around her neck.

Lara’s steps did not falter even when the wind blew. Her gaze was fixed on the other side.

She crossed faster. Faster than the two men who were supposed to guard the front.

The bank rose almost straight up — loose rock, thorns, patches of dead dirt that crumbled if you breathed on them wrong.

There was no path just punishment. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

One of the men climbed ahead and tossed her a rope.

"Use it. Don’t fall. I am not dragging you out."

Lara wrapped the rope around her palm and started climbing.

Every pull burned. Her arms shook.

Gravel slid under her shoes.

Shay’s weight felt heavier with every step, but Lara held her tighter.

Nobody touches my kid! She murmured.

Nobody.

Behind her, Sandro stumbled.

He hit the ground with a cry.

The teenager yanked the rope around his waist and hauled him up like a sack of rice.

"Get up," he muttered. "Don’t make this harder."

Sandro tried. Heavens, he tried.

But he kept slipping.

His hands were bloody. Knees scraped open.

Lara’s heart broke watching it.

She wanted to go back to help him.

But couldn’t. Shay was always her priority.

If she fell, Shay, who was on her back, would also fall.

So she climbed with ease.

One breath.

One step.

One pull.

Then again.

By the time they reached the top, her arms felt like jelly.

Her lungs felt shredded.

Her clothes were streaked with dirt and blood.

Sandro looked worse — bruised, shaking, mud smeared across his face.

And Shay?

Still asleep on her back.

Too exhausted to even cry.

That hurt the most.

"Damn," Gruffy growled, wiping sweat off his neck. "Whose bright idea was this route? This climb’s straight trash."

"Who do you think?" the young leader shot back. "Of course, it’s the boss who picked it."

Silence.

"You got a problem with that?"

"None. Of course, nobody would dare to do so with the boss."

Not out here. Not where people disappeared.

Lara caught that.

There was someone above these men.

Someone running the board.

And if she wanted out—

That was the head she’d have to cut off.