Chapter 197

Chapter 197

Three minutes later, Michael marked four locations on the blueprint.

“There’s a hidden door here.” His finger tapped the south wall of the monitoring center on the second basement level. “It leads to a narrow passage. They took me through it during examinations. The passage goes straight to the third basement level, bypassing the main corridor entirely.”

His finger shifted, landing on the northeast corner of the core experimental area.

"There's a separate room here. The door uses a six-digit code lock."

He paused.

“When I was locked up, someone came in every day.” His voice lowered, almost detached. “For four months, I listened to the sound of those keypad presses.”

Charlotte’s breath caught. "You memorized the code by sound."

Michael nodded.

“The button clicks are different. Keys farther apart echo differently when pressed. Keys on the left and right sides have distinct rebound frequencies.”

His tone flattened into something mechanical.

“247918.”

Silence fell.

Charles rose from his chair, walked over, and picked up the blueprint. He snapped photos of all four marked locations Michael had marked.
"What's inside that room?"

Michael’s shoulders drew inward.

"Machines."

Michael's finger froze mid-air. His breathing grew uneven, shallow—then sharp. After a few seconds, he forced himself to steady.

Charlotte didn’t press him.

Instead, she stood and walked to the door, pulling Marcus into the hallway.

“Discard the old blueprint,” she said. “Rebuild the entire model based on Michael’s information. Adjust all infiltration routes according to his markings."

Marcus nodded, already working on his tablet.

"The hidden door's location needs confirmation. If Michael's memory differs from the actual layout—"

"There won't be any difference." Charlotte cut him off cleanly. “He spent four months inside that place. Walking the same route. Hearing the same sounds. He won’t get it wrong.”

Marcus glanced at her and said nothing more.

When Charlotte returned to the hospital room, Charles stood by the window, his phone pressed to his ear, voice low and controlled. After hanging up, he turned around.

“Felix’s team spotted a refrigerated truck leaving Bowers Villa ten minutes ago through the cargo passage. At least six large sealed containers were loaded.”

Charlotte’s fingers curled into fists.

“Direction?”

"South suburbs of Emerald City, then got on the highway. Felix sent two cars to follow. But they split at the toll station—one went east, one south."

Charlotte closed her eyes. The chessboard was evacuated.

"How much is still left in the basement levels?"

"Don't know, but the refrigerated truck has made three trips tonight."

Charlotte immediately dialed Felix's number. "What's the report?"

Felix’s voice came through, tense. “Increased movement inside. Three times the usual number of loaders in the unloading zone. My people scanned from the eastern riverbed with thermal imaging—heat signatures on the third basement level are decreasing."

Heat signatures are decreasing. Equipment being moved, people being moved.If Rebecca had been sealed inside one of those refrigerated containers—

Charlotte’s grip tightened around the phone until her nails turned white.

“Move the operation forward.”

"Boss—"

"Tonight."

She hung up.

Charles watched her from across the room, his expression unreadable.

“You understand what this means?” he said evenly. “Preparation time drops from twenty-four hours to six. Communication jamming equipment isn't in place yet; the disguised refrigerated truck hasn't had its plates changed, and infiltration routes aren’t finalized.”

"I know."

"Wayne's people are still tracking the refrigerated truck in the south suburbs. Available combat personnel won't exceed four."

"That's enough."

"It's not enough."

Charlotte met his gaze, unwavering. "I've been inside the Bowers Villa before. Without blueprints, without support, without communication coverage."

Charles's jaw tightened. "That time you almost died in that attic."

"This time I have the code."

They stood across from each other, tension snapping tight between them.

Charles's fingers tapped the table edge three times.

“You go through the sewage pipeline. Alone.” His voice was firm. “I’ll take a team through the cargo passage as backup.”

Charlotte opened her mouth. "Your injury—"

“Don’t start.”

"Marcus." Charles turned his head.

"Here."

"No time for communication jamming equipment,” Charles continued. “New plan. Felix’s people will cut the Bowers Villa's external communication lines after the operation starts—physical cut. Find the fiber optic entry point and cut it directly."

Marcus frowned. “If we physically cut it, that will trigger internal alerts immediately. The monitoring center will detect the anomaly within thirty seconds."

“Thirty seconds is enough,” Charlotte said.

She stepped forward, eyes already tracing the route in her mind. "From the sewage pipe exit to the hidden door is twenty meters, twenty seconds. After the hidden door opens, it's fifteen meters to the iron door. Add the time to enter the code; total time won't exceed forty seconds."

"Sixty seconds total."

Charles nodded once.

“Sixty seconds total from the moment the fiber optic is cut,” he said. “That’s your window to reach the core experimental area.”

“Understood.”

“Wayne’s four men go through the cargo passage,” Charles continued, picking up the blueprint. “They’re not infiltrating—they’re creating chaos.”

“A feint,” Charlotte said.

“Exactly. Once the cargo passage scanners are triggered, security will converge and concentrate on the first basement level. That leaves gaps on the third basement level.”

Charlotte drew the final line on the blueprint. From the sewage pipe exit, through the waste liquid processing room, to the hidden door. From the hidden door into the narrow passage, straight to the third basement level. Through the iron door into the core experimental area to find Rebecca. Sixty seconds.

“Charlotte.”

Michael’s voice came from behind.

She turned slightly.

He sat upright on the hospital bed, his eyes locked onto the blueprint.

"That code," his throat was dry, having to swallow twice for each sentence. "Might have been changed."

Charlotte's hand stilled on the blueprint.

“When I was there three years ago, it was that code,” he continued quietly. “But they update it. Periodically.”

"What's the pattern for changing codes?"

Michael shook his head. "Don't know. I only heard this one set."

“Do we have a backup plan?” Marcus spoke from the doorway.

Charlotte didn’t hesitate.

“We blow it.

Everyone looked at her.

She looked at Charles.

“How much can you carry through the sewage pipeline?”

His gaze sharpened. “Your shoulder won’t handle the blast.”

“I didn’t ask that.” Her voice was cold. “I asked how much can be carried.”

Charles stared at her. "C4."

Wayne gave a brief nod and exited the room without a word.

Charlotte stood up. She drew a circle around the iron door location on the blueprint.

“If the code works, we use it,” she said. “If not—blow it up”

She glanced at the time on her phone. Fourteen hours until the operation began.

Michael's hand reached out from the hospital bed and caught the edge of her clothes.

“I’m coming with you.” Michael’s voice was hoarse, but steady.

Charlotte didn't turn around. "No."