I got to my feet and kicked the gun away. I grabbed my radio. “He’s mine,” I said into it and then tossed the radio aside.
Omar grinned. He stood up slowly, one arm bloody. “Look at you, wanting to fight an injured man.”
I slipped my knife from my sheath. “You’ve caused me a lot of problems,” I said, “and now I’m finishing this.”
He pulled a knife from his belt and growled. Omar was tall and broad, strong in the shoulders and chest. He was an ugly bastard, and he came at me viciously.
I fended off his attacks, our knives slashing through the air. Our bodies twisted and moved together as he came at me, attacking violently and savagely.
He shoved me back and I slammed against a console. I blinked, twisting away from a slash, and realized that my eyes were still fucked from the grenade. I blinked and ducked, fighting off more slashes, twisting to my side. I gave up more ground as Omar came at me like an animal.
He needed to make this fast. He was bleeding, and soon his strength would give out. I couldn’t see well, my depth perception slightly off, but I could see well enough to stay out of his reach.
We moved like that, knives flashing. Omar was slowing and my vision was coming back, slowly but surely.
He lunged at me, stabbing out fast. I used my left arm to sweep his attack away, locking his elbow, and I shoved my shoulder into his chest, forcing him back. I released his arm and he stumbled, off balance.
I kicked out, catching his knee. He swiped wildly and caught my thigh with his blade, sending pain searing up my leg. I didn’t stop though, just kept moving forward. I blocked his knife again and shoved, sending him stumbling. I followed that up hard, stabbing and slashing at him, forcing him back, back, back.
He kept it up, fighting hard, but he wasn’t watching his footing. He stumbled on his own gun, and I knew I had him. I took the opening, my knife biting out like a snake, and caught him in the neck.
I pushed it farther in, looking into his eyes. He looked surprised as I let my knife go, leaving it buried deep in his throat.
He fell to his knees, bleeding, and collapsed.
It was fucking over.
I felt someone next to me. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Tara’s father. I looked at him. “Fine,” I said. “The plant?”
“Nothing bad,” he said, and he quickly went to the control. “Most of this is fried, but I can get it back under control.”
“You mean it’s melting down?”
“No. Not yet. It would have if you hadn’t gotten here sooner.” He began to press buttons, typing at a computer monitor.
I leaned up against a wall, breathing deeply.
We were out of the water. Omar lay dead at my feet and everything was over.
Tara’s parents were safe. Her mother was still huddled against the wall, looking terrified, but she was alive. Her father worked hard at the console, but I had total faith in him.
I called Travis on the radio. “We’re good to go,” I said. “Threat is neutralized. Over.”
“Nice fighting there, cap,” he said. “I’ll call Blackfire. You get those people out. Over.”
“Roger that. Over and out.”
I felt tired, so fucking tired. Exhaustion ran through my whole body, and all I wanted to do was fall onto the floor and sleep.
But a SEAL’s job was never over until it was completely over.
I wasn’t going to ever give up or walk away. I was a SEAL for life, even if I wasn’t actively working as a SEAL.
Because the only thing I wanted was Tara. This was my biggest achievement. I’d averted an enormous disaster, saved hundreds of thousands of lives.
And after this, I wanted to live my own life. I wanted to finally have the freedom to be with the woman I wanted, I claimed, I loved. Tara and Mason, the only two people I needed, the only two people who mattered.
I pushed up off the wall, feeling my strength returning, and pushed forward, Tara’s smiling face in my mind, excitement coursing through my body.
I knew it was only going to get better and better.