Chapter 25 Attempt 2
Meanwhile, several miles away, Damon and Jaxon were following Caleb’s vehicle through the city outskirts. The streets were thinning. The buildings became fewer, more isolated. The atmosphere shifted from urban to desolate.
Jaxon stared out the windshield, jaw tight, fists clenched. Every passing second increased the tension in the car.
Suddenly, Caleb’s vehicle slowed down and turned into a dirt path lined with dead trees and shadows.
Damon eased his foot off the accelerator and brought their vehicle to a stop at a safe distance. They parked behind a half-collapsed fence, just far enough to remain hidden.
Jaxon leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he watched.
Caleb’s driver stepped out first and opened the rear door.
And then Caleb emerged—calm, composed… and not alone.
“Maya?” Damon said under his breath, adjusting the zoom on his tablet screen.
There she was—Maya, dressed in black, standing beside Caleb as if she belonged there. Her expression unreadable, her arms crossed tightly.
“What the hell is she doing here?” Jaxon muttered.
They watched in silence as Caleb and Maya exchanged words. Then, with a few men flanking them—clearly bodyguards—they entered the old apartment building. The doors shut behind them with a loud clang.
Jaxon reached for the door handle.
“I’m going in.”
Damon grabbed his arm. “We shouldn't act rash now?”
“We can’t just sit here, Damon. Elena could be in there!”
“I know,” Damon said calmly but firmly. “But charging in without a plan will get us all killed. That place is heavily guarded. Look—motion detectors, high-grade security on the windows, surveillance cameras. It’s no ordinary hideout.”
Jaxon froze, frustrated but listening.
Damon turned to him, voice low and urgent.
“We need to think. If they went to this much trouble, it means Caleb’s hiding something big. And if Maya’s involved, this goes deeper than we imagined.”
Jaxon’s fists clenched again. His heart raced with the urge to break in, to scream Elena’s name until she answered. But logic pulled at him, reminding him that recklessness would cost him more than time—it would cost lives.
He exhaled sharply.
“Alright,” he said. “We do it your way. But we move fast.”
Damon nodded and glanced back at the screen, watching as the tracker signal remained inside the apartment.
Time was running out.
Elena’s pulse raced as she stood on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, the sound of running water masking every frantic move. She tugged again at the small, rust-colored latch. It rattled but wouldn’t give. The wood around it was swollen and cracked, the frame soft from years of moisture.
“Come on…” she whispered under her breath, prying with the tip of the fork she’d hidden in her pocket. The metal squealed softly as it dug into the groove. She bit her lip and pushed harder.
A small flake of rust broke off.
Progress.
But just then, a heavy knock struck the door.
“You done in there?” the man’s voice barked.
Elena froze. “Just a second!” she called out, forcing a calm tone.
Her fingers worked faster now. One screw loosened, wobbling under pressure. She could almost lift the latch when the man’s hand twisted the handle.
“I said—”
“I’m almost done!” she cut him off sharply.
He grumbled something, pacing right outside. His boots scuffed the floor. Elena’s heart pounded in her throat. She slid the fork one last time under the latch and pushed with everything she had.
Click.
The window creaked open half an inch, enough for a thin stream of cool air to rush in. She almost smiled—but the hinge screeched loudly.
“Elena!” The man banged on the door now, angry.
She gasped, stepping down quickly, turning off the tap, and flushing the toilet to cover her noise. She pulled the window back shut just as the bolt rattled.
When she opened the door, her face was calm again, the picture of innocence.
“Happy now?” she said, folding her arms.
He eyed her suspiciously. “Took your sweet time.”
“Sorry,” she muttered, brushing past him.
As she walked back down the hall, she subtly touched the fork in her pocket—still there, her only weapon. But now she knew: that window could open. She’d just have to find the right moment.
\---
Meanwhile, night had begun to settle over the city’s edge. A dim orange haze spread across the skyline as Damon’s car remained parked in the shadows. Inside, the screens on his laptop and Jaxon’s tablet glowed faintly, showing lines of code and a pulsing red dot—the tracker signal still moving slowly inside the old building.
“Signal’s stable,” Damon murmured. “Caleb’s been stationary for the last ten minutes. He’s in the east wing of the building—top floor, corner room.”
“What about the guards?” Jaxon asked, leaning forward.
Damon’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Four outside. Two at the gate, one roaming the hallway, one inside with him. Security system’s running on a closed circuit. I can tap into their cameras, but I’ll need to piggyback off a nearby network first.”
“English, Damon.”
“It means,” Damon said with a smirk, “give me thirty seconds, and I’ll have eyes inside.”
Jaxon sat still, watching the old structure from afar. His thoughts were a storm. Every minute Elena was missing felt like a lifetime.
A soft beep drew his attention back to the screen. The camera feed flickered, and then—a live view appeared.
They saw Caleb standing in a dimly lit room, speaking to someone off-screen. When the camera panned slightly, they caught a glimpse of Maya handing him a small envelope.
“Zoom in,” Jaxon whispered.
The image sharpened just enough to reveal Caleb sliding out a photograph—Elena’s face.
Jaxon’s breath hitched. “That bastard…”
“Wait,” Damon warned. “We don’t know the context yet.”
“I don’t need context!” Jaxon hissed. “He has her photo, Damon. That’s proof enough!”
Damon leaned closer, studying Caleb’s expression. “He looks tense. Maybe he’s being blackmailed too. Look—he’s not smiling, he’s… worried.”
But Jaxon wasn’t listening. His hand was already on the door handle again. “I’m not sitting here any longer.”
“Jaxon, don’t—”
“I said she could be in there!”
“She could,” Damon countered sharply, “or she could be somewhere else. If you get caught now, no one’s left to find her!”
Jaxon stopped, the logic cutting through his rage. His knuckles whitened around the handle, but he didn’t move. He sat back down, breathing heavily.
Damon turned back to the screen, eyes narrowed. “Let’s be smart. We’ll track Caleb’s movements until he leads us somewhere else. If he’s tied to her kidnapping, he’ll slip up soon enough.”
Jaxon exhaled, staring at the flickering feed. “He already has,” he muttered darkly.
___
Inside the building, Elena sat by the narrow bed, staring at the half-opened window in the bathroom door across the hall, remembering how close she had come. Every creak in the corridor made her tense. But her eyes were sharper now, calculating, determined.