?Chapter 1586:


    Hydraulic jacks locked into position while cutting equipment roared to life. Every second mattered, yet they could not afford recklessness—the weakened passage had to remain intact even as they forced it open wide enough to bring the wounded out alive. Each member carried out their assigned role with absolute precision.


    With nothing they could contribute, Maia and Chris were forced to remain off to the side, reduced to silent observers. Though only a short distance separated them physically, a suffocating sense of distance stretched between them, imprable and cold.


    Chris’s brows tightened, tension carving harsh lines across his forehead, unrest simmering openly in his gaze. Had he not issued thatmand, Maynard and the others would never have entered. They would not now be trapped inside, their survival hanging in uncertainty.


    He should have predicted this sooner. The tunnel itself had been designed as a snare—anyone choosing that route would never leave without preparation. There had to be a contingency, an exit known only to their enemy.


    Damn it. How had he failed to see it? Those covert operatives operated beyond reason. They were willing to embrace chaos without hesitation. Missionpletion was their sole objective. Consequences, damage, sacrifice—none of it held weight in their calctions.


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    Chris’s fingers curled inward, his fists tightening until his knuckles nched. Their interference had shattered his carefully constructed n to tighten his hold over Kolton.


    At that moment, a voice from the rescue line broke through the tension. “Move aside! Clear the route! We are bringing the injured out!”


    Two rescue workers advanced cautiously between them, one supporting from the front while the other steadied from behind, bearing the weight of a body drenched in blood.


    Chris and Maia turned toward the movement at nearly the same instant.


    It was Maynard.


    Neither paused nor spoke. Both surged forward instinctively, arriving side by side at the stretcher.


    “Are you okay?” Their voices emerged together, perfectly synchronized.


    After the words left them, Chris and Maia briefly met each other’s eyes before both quickly redirected their attention to the injured man lying before them.


    Maynard’s face was smeared with dried blood and dirt, his features barely recognizable beneath the grime, his eyelids drooping heavily. His gaze flickered weakly, drifting first toward Chris, then shifting slowly to Maia. His lips, split and parched, trembled faintly as he struggled to form words.


    When his voice finally emerged, it was hoarse and thin, barely rising above a breath. “Inside the tunnel… there was backup. The police vehicle we were pursuing… it vanished inside the tunnel…”


    Maynard’s condition was critical, his body teetering on the edge of copse. Each breath came with visible strain, his chest rising unevenly as though the effort alone might overwhelm him.


    Maia’s expression tightened instantly, her focus sharpening as her medical instincts took over without hesitation.


    “I’m a doctor,” she said firmly. “Give me space. I need to examine him immediately.”


    The soldiers holding the stretcher faltered, exchanging uncertain nces before instinctively turning their eyes toward theirmanding officer.


    From a distance, Dominic watched the scene unfold, fully aware of Maia’s skill. After all, she had once dragged him back from death’s grasp with those same steady hands.


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