Chapter 79: Alex’s POV

I haven’t slept in days.

My phone vibrates every five minutes—calls from security, texts from Langston, satellite updates, code red alarms. I ignore half of them now, letting my private guards handle the noise. There is only one thing I care about: finding Eleanor.

The walls of my control room are covered in blueprints, maps, lines of red string like something from a detective movie. I stand in front of the main monitor, jaw clenched, hands stuffed in my pockets to keep them from shaking.

I keep replaying the footage—grainy, black and white, time stamped 02:37 a.m. The moment when everything slipped out of my control. The moment they took her.

Rick leans against the back wall, dark circles under his eyes, face hard as stone. Langston sits at a folding table, fingers flying over his laptop as he tries to break another layer of Blackthorn’s encryption.

I’m not just watching this time. I’m right there in the center, making every call.

“Anything?” I bark, barely recognizing my own voice.

Langston shakes his head. “They looped the cameras before the extraction. Whoever did this, they had help from the inside. Reed’s team is nowhere on site.”

Rick slams his fist on the table. “If that bastard Reed touched her—”

“We don’t know if it’s Reed,” I snap. “Blackthorn overrode the whole system. He might be running, too.”

I push away from the monitors, running my hands through my hair. My whole body feels like a live wire, electric with rage and fear. Billionaire or not, I’ve never felt this powerless.

My phone buzzes—a message from my head of security. “No movement at the city’s safe houses. No sign of Eleanor Carter.”

I grind my teeth. “She’s not a Carter,” I mutter. “She’s Nell. And I’m not letting them take her from me again.”

Langston looks up, face drawn. “There’s an informant in the holding cell. Picked him up trying to access one of your bank accounts, Alex. He might know something.”

“Bring him in.”

Rick and I follow the guards through the maze of hallways beneath my private office—a bunker built for emergencies. The walls are thick concrete. The air is always cold, recycled. It keeps me alert.

The informant—a scrawny man in a cheap suit, shaking, blood at his temple—sits at a metal table under a single light.

I stand in front of him, arms crossed. “You’re going to tell me where they took her.”

He tries to smile, lips trembling. “I—I don’t know who—”

I nod to Rick, who slams a fist on the table. The man flinches. “We know you work for Blackthorn. We know you were on the last payroll. Talk.”

The man swallows. “Echo-6A. That’s all I know. I swear, I swear! I just move the money, I don’t know who’s running it now. The codes change every week.”

Echo-6A.

Langston types the name into his laptop, pulling up a blank screen. “Off-grid facility. Remote. Last activity ping was six months ago.”

My heart pounds. I lean in close, my voice cold and flat. “If you’re lying, I’ll bury you so deep no one will remember your name. Are you sure that’s where she is?”

He nods, eyes wide with terror.

I look at Rick. “Get him out of here.”

The guards drag the man away. I drop into the nearest chair, head in my hands. “Echo-6A. Where the hell is it?”

Langston is already searching, his fingers flying. “Somewhere in the mountains, north border. No official record, only rumors—people go in, don’t come out. Security is ex-military. Reed wouldn’t have the clearance to get inside alone.”

“So who’s running it?”

“Blackthorn,” Langston mutters. “But not Reed. Someone higher up.”

A chill goes down my spine.

\---

The next hours are a blur.

I change clothes, pull on a black jacket, lace up boots. I grab my gun—legal, registered, unnecessary for most, but I refuse to go in unprepared. My guards, seven of them, fall into step behind me. They’re ex-special forces, paid well, loyal only to me.

My private driver is already waiting by the armored SUV. “Destination, sir?”

“Nearest airfield. I want a chopper prepped in ten.”

He nods. “Right away, Mr. Carter.”

Rick rides with me, phone pressed to his ear, yelling orders at contacts around the city. “Full blackout at all hospitals. If she shows up on any records, we need to know before anyone else.”

The SUV speeds through the night, blue lights flashing as we ignore every red light. I stare out the window, searching the city for any sign of Eleanor. She could be anywhere. She could be nowhere.

I text my business manager: Cancel all meetings. Tell the board I’m indisposed. If they push, remind them who owns this company.

A response comes within seconds. “Understood, sir. All business matters will wait.”

It’s not enough.

Nothing is enough until she’s safe.

\---

The helicopter is already waiting at the private airfield, blades spinning. Langston joins us, carrying a case of encrypted laptops and satellite phones.

The pilot nods. “Ready, Mr. Carter.”

“Take us north. Echo-6A. Fast as you can.”

“Yes, sir.”

As we rise over the city, the world looks smaller—just patches of darkness and pinpricks of light. I close my eyes, thinking of Nell. The way she smiles when she’s nervous. The way she says my name when she’s half-asleep. I promised her I’d never let anything happen to her. I’ve already broken that promise once. I won’t do it again.

Rick sits across from me, watching my face. “You all right, Alex?”

I shake my head. “No. And I won’t be until she’s back.”

Langston hands me a headset. “Intercepted communications show increased activity near Echo-6A. Someone’s preparing for a transfer. They know we’re coming.”

I clench my fists. “Good. Let them be scared.”

\---

The chopper lands in a remote clearing. The air is cold, thin, biting.

We move fast—me, Rick, Langston, and four guards. The others fan out, securing the perimeter.

Langston taps away at his laptop as we hike toward the old service road that leads to the hidden facility.

We’re careful, moving from cover to cover, ducking beneath branches, every step measured. My heart pounds in my chest, adrenaline surging.

I hear Rick mutter, “Movement, east side.”

We freeze.

A shadow steps out from behind a tree—a young man in Blackthorn’s uniform, holding a pistol low. I signal my men. In seconds, he’s disarmed and on the ground, my guards pressing him for answers.

“Where’s the girl?” I demand, my voice a growl.

He shakes his head. “I—I don’t know. She’s already inside. Phase Zero started hours ago. Nobody gets out, not even staff.”

My blood runs cold.

I look at Langston. “Can we breach the building?”

He shakes his head. “Sensors everywhere. If we trip one, they’ll move her or erase everything before we get there.”

“We need a plan,” Rick says, voice urgent.

I nod, forcing myself to focus. “Langston, can you hack the cameras? Show me every hallway, every room.”

He’s already typing, sweat running down his face. “I’ll try. Give me a minute.”

\---

While Langston works, I gather my team. I explain what we’re up against—layers of security, mercenaries inside, guards who would kill rather than let us succeed. Every face is grim, ready for a fight.

The radio crackles.

“Movement on the roof, northeast corner. Possible extraction point.”

I grab my binoculars and scan the rooftop—two figures in white suits, moving a stretcher toward a waiting van.

My stomach drops.

I know it’s her.

\---

We move fast.

Langston unlocks two doors, and we slip inside, sweeping the halls with silent precision. I lead the way, gun drawn, heart hammering.

Alarms blare.

Red lights flash.

Guards appear at every turn, shouting, weapons raised.

We fight our way through—blows, shots, screams in the dark. Rick is beside me, a silent shadow, taking down two men before I even see them.

I reach the operating room door just as it slams shut. Thick steel. Reinforced. A security screen flickers to life, showing Dr. Evelyn Cross on the other side, her hands moving quickly over a control panel.

Nell is on the table, strapped down, eyes wide with terror.

I slam my fist on the glass. “Let me in!”

Cross doesn’t look up. Her voice is steady, cold. “You’re too late, Alex. Phase Zero is irreversible.”

Rick grabs my shoulder, holding me back as I try to break down the door.

On the screen, I watch as Cross adjusts the machinery, her face tight with regret.

Nell is screaming. Her voice is muffled by the mask. She looks right at the camera, right at me, and I see her lips form my name.

Alex.

I punch the glass, desperate, helpless.

The guards outside close in, gunfire echoing in the hallway.

Rick and my men hold them off, fighting for every inch.

But all I can do is watch—helpless—on the other side of the glass.

\---

Langston’s voice comes through the earpiece, frantic. “Alex, you have to get out! Security protocols just changed—total lockdown. The whole building is about to seal.”

“I’m not leaving her,” I growl.

“Alex, you’ll die here! You can’t help her if you’re dead. Please, trust me. We’ll find another way.”

The operation room is flooded with harsh white light. Machines begin to hum. A robotic arm lowers toward Nell’s head.

I feel something break inside me.

I scream her name.

But the glass doesn’t budge.

I watch, powerless, as the procedure begins.

Then—suddenly—the security screen flickers, goes black.

All around us, klaxons blare, new alarms. “CODE RED. CODE RED. Evacuate immediately.”

Rick yells. “Alex! We have to move!”

I hesitate, torn between love and survival.

Another explosion rocks the building. The lights sputter.

Langston drags me down the hallway as the doors slam shut behind us.

We fight our way out—bullets, bodies, the sound of my own heartbeat roaring in my ears.

We make it to the van just as the roof caves in behind us.

\---

Back at the airfield, I collapse into the back seat, hands shaking.

Rick stares at me, his eyes hard.

Langston speaks, voice raw. “Echo-6A is gone. Whoever took her, they’re not Blackthorn anymore. They’re something else. Someone higher up.”

My phone vibrates—an alert.

I look.

A satellite image, grainy and blurred—shows a convoy leaving the facility. A single figure on a stretcher. Her hair is unmistakable.

Nell.

I zoomed in, my fingers trembling.

Even in the grainy resolution, I could see the limp curve of her body under the white sheet. The way her head tilted to one side. The IV line. The armed guards walking beside the stretcher, faces hidden behind tinted visors.

Langston leaned over my shoulder. “That convoy isn’t standard Blackthorn. Their uniforms are unmarked. No ID tags. No national insignias.”

Rick’s voice was low. “This isn’t Blackthorn protocol anymore. They handed her over to someone else.”

I turned to face them, my voice steady but cold. “Who?”

Langston hesitated, then pointed at a small symbol on the rear of the van—barely visible in the satellite shot. It looked like a triangle wrapped in a circle.

“I’ve seen that before,” he muttered. “Old files. The symbol isn’t in any official system... but it’s tied to a faction within Blackthorn. An elite arm. Off-the-books.”

Rick’s eyes narrowed. “You’re talking about The Void.”

Langston nodded.

I clenched my fists.

The Void.

I’d heard the name once, whispered in a closed-door boardroom years ago. A group that operated outside all known structures—above the government, above Blackthorn. No one knew who ran it. No one had ever found their base.

Until now.

The van disappeared off-screen, swallowed by a tunnel entrance somewhere in the mountains.

“Can we track them?” I asked.

Langston’s fingers flew across the keys. “They’re using quantum scrambling. We might get one shot at tracing the path before it goes dark.”

“Then don’t miss,” I said.

He tapped a few keys, and a second later, a new set of coordinates popped up.

“Got them,” he breathed. “But it’s risky. Heavily guarded. Underground.”

“Send the location to the team. I want full satellite surveillance, every entry point mapped, heat signatures, pressure sensors, all of it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Rick stepped forward. “If The Void has her… this isn’t just about memory experiments anymore. This is bigger.”

I nodded. “I know.”

We all stood in silence, staring at the final frozen image of Nell being wheeled into the shadows.

They had taken her again.

But this time, I wasn’t alone.

I had an army.

And I had nothing left to lose.

Just as Langston opened his mouth to speak again, a second alert buzzed on the screen. Emergency encryption. No source.

He clicked it open.

One message.

“You’re too late. She’s ours now.”

We all stared at the words.

No voice.

No signature.

No bluff.

And for the first time since this war began, I didn’t feel rage.

I felt something worse.

Something deeper.

Pure, unfiltered fear.

Rick’s voice cut through the tension. “If we want her back, we’ll have to break every rule we know.”

I turned to him, my jaw tight. “Then let’s start breaking them.”

And just before the screen went dark, another alert blinked to life—an encrypted image file.

Langston opened it.

It was a video still.

Nell—eyes open, wide and terrified—surrounded by surgical equipment.

And behind her?

A figure in white.

Not Evelyn Cross.

Not Reed.

Someone else.

Someone we didn’t know.

And they were smiling.

Langston’s voice shook. “Alex… I think we’re too late.”

I stared at the screen, my blood turning to ice.

“No,” I whispered.

“She’s still alive.”

“And I’m going to burn the whole world down to get her back.”