<b>Chapter </b><b>69 </b>
Author’s POV:
:
?
<b>93 </b>
In a dimly lit building on the outskirts <b>of </b>town<b>, </b>the once–proud headquarters of Apex Tactical Group stood in disarray. Dust gathered on unused equipment, and the few remaining men looked like
ghosts haunting an abandoned fortress. In the central office, their leader sat slumped in a leather chair, staring at his mangled hands–tendons severed with surgical precision<b>, </b>fingers permanently
curled into useless ws.
“Boss,” one of his remaining loyal men said, hovering near the doorway. “We lost three more guys to Titan this morning.”
The leader’s eyes, bloodshot fromck of sleep and excess alcohol, flickered with rage. “How many
does that make now?”
“Over half our force. Ever since that bitch took over and humiliated you at La Corona…”
“Don’t. Mention. That.” Each word dripped with venom as he struggled to lift a ss of whiskey with
his ruined hands.
The man shifted ufortably. “There’s something else. I’ve been talking to a contact at Memorial
Hospital. There’s an American surgeon named Dr. ckwell who specializes in microsurgery. They might be able to-”
The leader’s head snapped up, hope briefly illuminating his haggard face. “Where? How much?”
Before his subordinate could answer, the door swung open. A man with Southeast Asian features walked in, nked by two armed guards. His left eye was marred by a jagged scar that pulled at the corner of his lid, and a fresher wound created a pink line across his neck.
<b>“</b>Gentlemen,” the neer said, his ent difficult to ce. “I believe I can help with your…
situation.”
“Who the fuck are you?” the Apex leader growled.
The man smiled, revealing perfect teeth. “My name is Ian. And I happen to know Dr, ckwell personally,”
.1/5
<b>8:00 </b>Fri<b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>19 </b>
Zach wandered aimlessly through the Transcendent Military Alliancepound, kicking at loose stones and avoiding the main pathways. As Titan’s youngest member, he should have been running drills or maintaining equipment, but his mind was elsewhere.
<b>93 </b>
He found himself approaching the private vi where she was staying. Jade Morgan. The new boss. who had somehow earned the respect of Ryan and Xavier in record time. Despite his initial resistance, he had to admit her skills were impressive–the fighting style, the tactical knowledge, her natural leadership. But epting her meant letting go of Nobody, themander he’d idolized, and he wasn’t ready for that yet.
Zach stopped short of the vi’s perimeter. He couldn’t face her yet. Not when his mind was still mourning themander he’d followed faithfully, the one whose death had shattered Titan’s foundation. Nobody had been like no other, and no matter how qualified this Jade Morgan was, his loyalty to his former leader’s memory held him back.
“Lost?” a voice called out.
Zach turned to see Connor Haxton approaching, tablet in hand, expression neutral but eyes
calcting.
“Just stretching my legs,” Zach replied.
Connor nodded toward the direction Zach had been walking. “That’s Miss Morgan’s temporary
residence.”
“I know.” Zach turned away. “Something happen at base?”
“Actually<b>, </b>yes. We’ve got reports of trouble at the eastern mining operation. I was just heading there
to check it out.”
Zach seized the opportunity. “I’lle with you. Better than standing around here<b>.</b>”
In the SUV, Connor kept ncing at Zach in the rearview mirror. “So, you’ve known Jade Morgan for how long exactly?”
Zach’s face remained impassive. “Not long. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious about her background. She seems… unusually skilled for someone her age.”
<b>8:00 </b>Fri, <b>Sep </b><b>19 </b>
:
“You think?” Zach replied dryly. “What’s Ethan’s interest in her anyway?”
Connor’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Mr. Haxton sees potential in unique individuals.”
“Potential, huh?” Zach snorted. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
Neither man gained the information they sought, and the rest of the drive passed in silence.
93
Jade’s POV:
I sat on the windowsill of my temporary bedroom, nursing a ss of Night’s ridiculously expensive whiskey and watching thepound below. The military precision of the guards‘ movements reminded me of my former life–structured, disciplined, deadly.
Amotion near the eastern gate caught my attention. Several men were rushing toward themand center, their movements urgent. Something was wrong.
I set down my ss and headed downstairs. In the central courtyard, I intercepted a young soldier jogging toward themunications building.
“What’s happening?” I asked, my voice automatically taking on themanding tone I’d used as Nobody.
He hesitated, then seemed to recognize me as someone important. “Connor Haxton and one of your men have been taken, ma’am.”
My blood ran cold. “Taken? By whom?”
“Unknown hostiles. They were ambushed returning from the eastern operation.”
The monitoring room was a hive of controlled chaos when I entered. Screens disyed satellite imagery<b>, </bmunication channels buzzed with chatter, and technicians worked frantically at their stations<b>. </b>
“Who authorized you to be in here?” a heavyset man demanded, rising from his chair. “This area is restricted.”
8:00 Fri, <b>Sep </b><b>19 </b>
I ignored him, moving directly to the main disy. “Show me thest known location.”
A young technician looked up.
“Everyone here has subcutaneous trackers,” he exined, pulling up a map. “Standard TMA protocol. But the signal from Connor’s tracker went dark about twenty minutes ago.”
“Jamming technology?<b>” </b>
“Most likely. The trackers are our most advanced models–military grade. Whoever took them knew exactly what they were doing.”
“The tech expertise required to block these signals is considerable,” I noted, studying the disy.
The technician looked frustrated. “The tracking is difficult. Our bestputer expert was actually Connor, but Connor…” He gestured helplessly at the screen showing the lost signal.
I nodded, processing this information. “Where’s Ethan?”
“Mr. Haxton left early this morning,” another staff member replied.
“The call ising through!” someone shouted.
The main screen flickered, then stabilized with audio only.
“We have your men,” a distorted voice announced. “If you want them back alive, Ethan Haxtones alone to the coordinates we’re sending. Montana Range, ska.<b>” </b>
I recognized the voice immediately, despite the distortion. Ian.
“Signal origin?” I asked.
“Kansas,” the technician replied. “Moving north toward ska. But we can’t confirm if the hostages are with them.”
As the technicians scrambled to trace the signal more precisely, the door burst open. Ryan and Xavier rushed in, faces grim.
“Boss,” Ryan said. “Zach’s gone too.”