Chapter 73 It’s done
The FBI agents were loading Nora onto the stretcher when one of them looked out the door and cursed.
“We’ve got fire,” he said urgently. “The building’s burning.”
Noah looked up and saw orange light flickering in the corridor, smelled smoke beginning to fill the air. While all of this chaos was unfolding, someone had set the building ablaze.
“We need to move now,” the medic said, strapping Nora securely to the stretcher. “This whole place could come down.”
They rushed out of the room, navigating through corridors filled with smoke and the sound of crackling flames. FBI agents were everywhere, securing prisoners, evacuating the wounded, trying to maintain order in the midst of disaster.
As they moved through the compound, Noah saw something that made his heart seize. The cells where the cartel kept people who had been kidnapped had somehow opened during the raid. Confused, frightened people were streaming out, some of them barely able to walk, all of them looking around in disbelief at their sudden freedom.
“The holding cells are open,” an agent called out. “All prisoners being evacuated. Get them out before the fire spreads!”
Noah watched as victim after victim emerged from the darkness of their cells, blinking in the light, some crying, some too shocked to show any emotion at all. How many people had been kept here? How long had some of them been imprisoned?
They moved faster, the smoke getting thicker. The FBI team carrying Nora’s stretcher navigated through the chaos with practiced efficiency, heading toward the exit.
That’s when Noah saw it. Through a window in one of the corridors, he could see the other building, the one where Nora’s grandmother had been kept for five years. Flames were consuming it, massive and roaring, the old wooden parts of the structure feeding the inferno.
And in that moment, Noah understood. The cells hadn’t opened by accident. The fire hadn’t started randomly.
Grandma was the one who set the fire.
She had done it deliberately, had chosen to sacrifice herself to ensure the prisoners could escape.
“Nora,” Noah said, looking down at her pale face. “Your grandmother. She set the fire. She’s… she’s in there.”
But Nora was barely conscious, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow.
An FBI agent overheard Noah’s words and spoke into his radio. “We have reports of someone in the east building. Do we have teams in there?”
The response crackled back. “Negative. That building is fully engulfed. No one’s getting in or out.”
Noah felt tears streaming down his face as he watched the building burn. Nora’s grandmother had known what she was doing.
All of the imprisoned victims escaped from the burning building, stumbling out into the night air, guided by FBI agents to safety. There were dozens of them, maybe more than fifty people who had been kept in those cells, some for months, some for years.
They were led outside to where medical teams were waiting, the cold night air a shock after the heat of the burning compound. Noah stayed with Nora as they loaded her into an ambulance, his eyes still on the burning building, on the orange flames reaching toward the dark sky.
The operation continued around them with military precision. FBI agents were everywhere, securing the perimeter, making arrests, documenting evidence.
After the raid concluded, the reports started coming in. The operation had taken down forty-seven cartel members in total. Noah heard the numbers being relayed over radios, saw prisoners being loaded into vehicles.
Ben was among those arrested. Noah saw him being led out in handcuffs, his face bloody and furious, his Mafia King robes torn and burned. He was screaming threats at the agents, promising retribution, but they ignored him, loading him into the back of a secure transport vehicle.
Nora’s parents were arrested too. Both of them were handcuffed and being read their rights. Her mother was crying, her father stoic and silent. Fifteen other high-ranking members were also being taken into custody, people who had been central to the cartel’s operations for decades.
But not everyone survived. During the intense firefight and subsequent building collapse, twelve members died. Noah heard the casualty reports being called out. Several high-ranking lieutenants who had been central to the cartel’s operations were among the dead, killed either by gunfire or by the burning building collapsing on top of them.
The compound was being destroyed, consumed by flames and chaos. Everything the Shadowveil had built over generations was coming down in one catastrophic night.
“Sir, we need to get you checked out too,” an EMT said to Noah, noticing his injuries.
“I’m staying with her,” Noah said, climbing into the ambulance beside Nora’s stretcher.
The EMT nodded and didn’t argue. They closed the doors, and the ambulance pulled away from the compound, sirens wailing, speeding toward the nearest hospital.
Through the back window, Noah could see the Shadowveil Compound burning against the night sky, flames reaching high, smoke billowing into the darkness. Somewhere in that fire, Nora’s grandmother had made her final sacrifice. Somewhere in that chaos, the cartel that had terrorized so many people for so long was finally being brought to justice.
Nora and Noah were taken out of the dangerous area and were admitted into a hospital where they could receive proper medical treatment. The ambulance raced through the dark mountain roads, every second critical as Nora’s life hung in the balance.
Noah held her hand, watching the medical team work on her, praying to whatever force might be listening that she would survive this.