Chapter 241: Hope in the Darkness (Part 3)

Chapter 241: Hope in the Darkness (Part 3)
Jasmine's POV

"We've been made," Daniel said. "Someone triggered the security protocols."

Through our earpieces came the sound of gunfire from below.

"Team one, report!" Marcus barked.

"Under fire!" came the strained response. "Multiple hostiles emerging from the sublevel. We need backup!"

Everything happened at once. Richard and Daniel moved forward with their security detail, while Marcus pulled me back toward the exit.

"No!" I fought against his grip. "I'm not leaving without Louis!"

"Jasmine, we need to regroup," he insisted. "This was a trap. We need to—"

A deafening explosion shook the building, throwing us against the wall. Dust and debris filled the air, and for several moments, all I could hear was a high-pitched ringing in my ears.

As my senses returned, I became aware of shouting through the comms, orders being issued, confused reports of attackers from multiple directions.

"It's Alan," Richard's voice cut through the chaos. "He's here. He set this up."

"How could he know?" I gasped, struggling to my feet.

"Eva," Marcus said grimly. "She must have tipped him off."

Another explosion, smaller this time, came from somewhere in the building. The emergency lights flickered and died, plunging us into total darkness.

In that moment of blackness, I felt a strange calm descend over me. If Alan was here, then Louis might truly be here too. Despite the danger, despite the trap, we were closer to finding him than we had been in four years.

I activated the small flashlight on my vest. "I'm going to find my husband," I said with quiet determination.

Marcus grabbed my arm. "Jasmine, it's too dangerous. We need to—"

"Louis is here. I feel it."I cut him off, my voice steady despite the chaos around us.

Before he could argue further, I slipped from his grasp and moved deeper into the building, guided by instinct as much as the dim beam of my flashlight. Years of grief and hope had led to this moment—I wasn't going to back down now.

The building groaned around me, dust raining from the ceiling with each distant explosion. Through my earpiece, I could hear Marcus calling my name, then cursing before ordering his men to find me. But I kept moving, turning off my comm to focus completely on my search.

The corridor split ahead of me. I paused, heart pounding, trying to decide which way to go. Left would take me toward where the gunfire had originated. Right led deeper into the unknown parts of the facility.

"Louis," I whispered, as if he might somehow hear me, guide me to him.

A crash echoed from the right corridor, followed by a shout that made my blood freeze. It wasn't the voice I'd been longing to hear for four years, but one I recognized all too well.

Alan.

I pressed myself against the wall, switching off my flashlight. In the darkness, I strained to hear what was happening.

"Where is he?" Alan's voice demanded. "I know you moved him!"

A muffled response I couldn't make out, then the sickening sound of a blow landing on flesh.

"I don't have time for games," Alan snarled. "Tell me where Mitchell is, or I'll put a bullet in your head right now."

I reached for the gun Marcus had insisted I carry, my hand remarkably steady as I checked that the safety was off. Four years ago, I might have hesitated. The old Jasmine would have been terrified. But that Jasmine had died the day Louis fell from that cliff. The woman who remained was forged in grief and determination.

Moving silently down the corridor, I approached a door that stood ajar, dim light spilling from within. Through the crack, I could see Alan standing over someone on the floor—a security guard, his face bloodied.

"Last chance," Alan said, raising his gun.

I kicked the door open, my own weapon trained on Alan's head. "Drop it," I ordered, my voice cold and unfamiliar even to my own ears.
Alan whirled, shock registering on his face before it morphed into a cruel smile. "Well, well. The grieving widow herself. I wondered when you'd show up."

"Where is Louis?" I demanded, stepping into the room.

Alan's smile widened. "Still clinging to hope? Pathetic." He gestured with his gun toward the downed guard. "Even his own people don't know where he is anymore."

"You're lying," I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't believe he was alive."

"Maybe I just came to tie up loose ends," Alan replied, his eyes never leaving mine. "Starting with you."

He moved with startling speed, lunging toward me. I fired, the sound deafening in the confined space. Alan jerked but didn't fall. Instead, he tackled me to the ground, the impact knocking my gun from my hand.

Pain exploded in my side as we struggled. His hands found my throat, squeezing with murderous intent.

"You should have stayed away," he hissed, his face inches from mine.

"He's alive," I gasped, the confirmation giving me strength even as my vision began to darken from lack of oxygen.

Alan's grip tightened. "Not for long. And neither are you."

Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision. My lungs burned, desperate for air. In that moment, I thought of Grace, of how she would grow up without both parents if I died here. The thought gave me a surge of desperate strength.

My hand found something solid on the floor beside me—my flashlight. With the last of my energy, I swung it hard against Alan's temple.

He reeled back, his grip loosening just enough for me to gulp in precious air. I struck again, scrambling away from him as he fell to the side.

"You bitch," he snarled, blood trickling down his face as he reached for his fallen gun.

A single gunshot rang out, and Alan's body jerked before collapsing to the floor.

I spun toward the door, expecting to see Marcus or Richard.

Instead, a silhouette stood there, gun still raised. A painfully familiar silhouette.

"Louis?" I whispered, afraid to believe what my eyes were telling me.

He lowered the gun slowly, stepping into the dim light. His face was thinner.

"Jasmine," he said.

I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, afraid that if I blinked he would vanish like he had in so many of my dreams.

"Is it really you?" I asked, my voice breaking.

He took a step toward me, then another. "It's me."

A sob tore from my throat as I finally let myself believe.

I launched myself into his arms, and he caught me, holding me so tightly it hurt. But the pain was welcome—it meant this was real.

"I thought I'd lost you forever," I whispered against his neck, breathing in his scent, feeling his pulse beneath my fingers.

"Never," he murmured into my hair.

The building shuddered around us, a reminder that we were still in danger.

"We need to go," Louis said, pulling back to look at my face. "Alan's men are everywhere. Let's get out of here first."