Chapter 187: Backed into a Corner
The second the screen went black, the command center fell into a tomb-like silence. Then, a soul-shattering scream ripped from Evelyn’s throat.
"Let me go! Ryan! I have to save him!"
Evelyn struggled like a wild animal, trying to hurl herself at the heavy metal door. Her fingernails tore at the back of Ryan’s hands, leaving jagged red welts in the skin.
"Calm down!" Ryan roared, his arms locking around her waist like iron bands to drag her back toward the command console. "If you run out there now, you aren’t saving Elias. You’re just committing suicide!"
"That’s my son! He’s bleeding! Didn't you see? He’s calling for me!" Evelyn’s eyes were bloodshot, her tears carving white streaks through the soot on her face. She was shaking so violently her teeth rattled. "Marcus is a lunatic. He’ll kill him... he really will kill him..."
"Look at me!" Ryan grabbed her face with both hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. "If we just rush in, we fall into his trap. He doesn't just want the diary. He wants all three of us dead."
"I don't care!" Evelyn shrieked. "If it brings Elias back, he can have my life! I’ll give it to him!"
"I care!" Ryan’s voice boomed through the hall, echoing off the concrete walls.
He leaned in, kissing the tears from her cheeks, his forehead pressed hard against hers. His breath was ragged. "Elias is my son too. He might not have my blood, but I love him as my own. I swear to you, I will bring him back. I will bring him back in one piece."
Evelyn’s cries choked off. She took great, gasping breaths of air, looking into the absolute resolve in Ryan’s eyes. Finally, her logic clawed its way back from the edge of a total breakdown.
"I found them."
Albert broke the silence, his fingers flying across the control panel. A complex satellite map flickered to life on the screen. A red dot pulsed over an abandoned industrial zone in Queens.
"It’s an old pier the family used for smuggling years ago," Albert said rapidly. "The terrain is a nightmare. There is only one land entrance. Everything else is surrounded by deep water. Marcus has deployed at least twenty mercenaries there. They have heavy weapons."
He turned his scarred, wrinkled face toward Evelyn. His eyes were sharp. "Ms. Bell. Or should I say, Lady Lawrence."
Albert placed a satellite phone on the desk. "Now that we have the location, I’ll be blunt. Ryan has the resources of Nova Group, but to break into a fortress like that and save a hostage, we need professional firepower. We need a tactical squad."
"The family keeps a specialized unit in New York. Their gear and training far exceed those mercenaries. But only the head of the house, Victor Lawrence, has the authority to deploy them."
Evelyn stared at the phone. "What is the price?"
There was no such thing as a free lunch, especially not in a family as cold and ruthless as the Lawrences.
"It’s simple," Albert said. "The Master knows who you are. He is willing to provide full support. He’ll even use his connections in Washington to clear your name of every charge. The condition is that you must officially acknowledge yourself as Madeline’s daughter. You must take the ring and the diary, return to Washington with Ryan, and accept the family’s arrangements."
"Albert!" Ryan’s face twisted with rage. He grabbed the old butler by his collar. "You're taking advantage of this? I told you, I won't let her get dragged into that filth!"
"The trade is fair, Sir," Albert said calmly, not even flinching as Ryan gripped him. "Without air support and an underwater strike team, your chances of success are less than twenty percent. Do you want to gamble that child’s life on your pride?"
Ryan’s knuckles cracked as he balled his fists. The veins on his arms stood out like cords.
"I’ll do it."
Evelyn pushed Ryan’s hands away. Her voice was hoarse but steady. She picked up the satellite phone. "If it saves Elias, I don't care about Washington. I would go to hell itself."
Ryan looked at her, a flash of pain in his eyes. He knew that in this moment, Evelyn was no longer just a designer. For her child, she had sold her soul to the most cold-blooded family on earth.
"Fine," Albert said. He made a brief call, spoke a few coded sentences, and hung up. "The squad is moving. They will reach the target waters in fifteen minutes."
"Give me a gun." Ryan turned toward the weapons rack. He grabbed an assault rifle, checking the magazine with practiced, lethal speed. "Albert and I will lead the frontal assault. Marcus wants the ring and the diary. He’ll wait for us to show ourselves."
"I’m coming too," Evelyn stepped forward.
"No. You stay in the safe house. In your state, you’ll only be a distraction." He strode back to her, reaching out to unchain the silver ring from her neck. He closed his fist around it. "I’m taking the ring as bait. The original diary is in the vault. The system here is linked to the family’s private cloud. I need you to do one thing."
Ryan pointed at the command computer. "Take every piece of evidence you found in the diary—the money laundering, the assassinations, everything. Pack it into a digital bomb."
Evelyn looked at him. His face was still stained with ash from the fire. His shirt was torn, showing the hard muscle and fresh scars on his chest. This man was going to risk his life for someone else's child.
"Come back alive," Evelyn whispered. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him hard. "You promised to protect us."
"Wait for me."
Ryan kissed her back, then grabbed a tactical vest. He vanished through the door without looking back. Albert and several bodyguards followed him into the night.
Evelyn wiped her face hard and sat at the computer. The sound of rapid typing echoed in the empty room. She pulled the high-definition scans of Madeline’s diary and the financial records Ryan had found, merging them into a single file.
Twenty minutes passed.
Evelyn picked up the radio. "Ryan? Can you hear me?"
Only static answered her.
"Albert? Anyone?"
Still nothing. The signal had been jammed.
Evelyn’s heart squeezed. According to the plan, they should be in combat by now. Even if they couldn't talk, there should be a signal. Unless something had gone wrong.
Suddenly, her private phone vibrated on the table. It was a message from Marcus.
With shaking hands, she opened it. There was no text, only a photo.
The background was the dark warehouse. Several Nova Group bodyguards lay dead on the floor. A man who looked like Ryan was kneeling in a pool of blood, a gun pressed to the back of his head. Nearby, Elias was still suspended in the air.
Then, a text appeared: If you don't want to watch them die, bring the diary and come alone. No tricks. This is your last warning.