The collapsed guard was rushed into emergency, nurses wheeling him away while Ethan stood frozen, the corridor spinning violently around him.
His breath caught in his throat.
Not again.
Not another person taken from him.
His hands curled into trembling fists, nails digging into his palms, trying to anchor him to reality. His knees buckled slightly, and he sank into the nearest bench, leaning forward, elbows on his thighs, head down.
Christian placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Breathe, man. We'll find her."
Ethan didn't respond.
Not yet.
He pulled out his phone and barked into it. "Mobilize every security team we have. Sweep the university. The surrounding blocks. Traffic cams. Drones. I want eyes on every street Lena may have touched."
Moments later, a doctor stepped into the waiting area.
"He's regaining consciousness," she said.
Ethan stormed in, Christian close behind.
The guard blinked against the sterile light, bruised face grimacing in pain.
"I'm… I'm sorry, sir," he whispered, barely able to lift his head.
Ethan leaned close, voice dangerously calm. "Who took her?"
"I—I tried to stop it…" the guard stammered, guilt painted across his battered features. "She was approached by someone. A woman."
"Who?"
"…Vivian."
Ethan's breath hitched. "No… No way. She wouldn't—"
"She insisted on meeting her. Said it was urgent. I advised against it, but… she made me wait in line at the café to check her surroundings. She was cautious, but…"
He closed his eyes in shame. "Then a group of men walked up. They formed a wall—blocked my view. I tried to push through, but they beat me down. Fast. In the crowd. No one noticed."
He paused, voice cracking. "When I finally got up… they were both gone."
Ethan straightened, cold fury rising like a tide.
He turned to Christian. "Find Vivian. Now. Lock every airport. Every train. She doesn't leave this city."
---
An hour later
Ethan paced the dim corner of the hospital's underground parking garage, jaw clenched tight.
Christian returned from a call, his expression grim. "Vivian's hotel room was untouched. Passport in her drawer. Luggage still there. No checkout record. No transport booking. It's like she vanished."
Ethan muttered a curse under his breath, slamming his fist against a steel column. The sound echoed like a gunshot.
And then—
Buzz.
Ethan's phone lit up.
Message from Lena.
But the text was unreadable. Random letters. Symbols. Gibberish.
Not a message. A signal.
"She has her phone," Ethan whispered. "She's trying to reach me."
He opened the hidden spyware system he had once installed on her phone—meant to keep her safe, never meant to spy.
He tapped in the code, and the screen loaded.
Location: Active.
His eyes widened. "She's alive."
He zoomed in. The signal was coming from an isolated area on the outskirts of town.
Behind an old church.
Christian leaned over his shoulder. "That's dangerous territory, man. Could be a trap."
Ethan didn't hesitate. "I'm going. I won't risk bringing a team and alerting them."
"Then I'm driving," Christian said, already heading for the car.
---
Thirty minutes later
The city had faded behind them. Darkness thickened as they veered off the main road into the woods. There were no streetlights. Just the faint hum of the engine and Ethan refreshing the tracker every minute.
"We're close," Ethan murmured, eyes glued to the blinking dot. "That old church is up ahead."
They slowed as the road narrowed, swallowed by weeds and cracked concrete. A rusted sign dangled from a chain, unreadable.
Beyond it sat a forgotten chapel, its broken windows glowing dimly from a distant generator.
Nearby, a line of sleek black vehicles stood parked—fresh tire marks on dirt. Out of place. Suspicious.
Ethan and Christian crept out of the car, weapons drawn from the glove compartment.
They moved quietly, flanking the building.
A man stood guard at the entrance—smoking, face half-covered by a balaclava, a gun slung lazily at his side.
Inside a car parked close to the building—Lena.
Her mouth tied, hands bound, eyes wide with terror.
She was banging on the glass, trying to make noise, but it was muffled by the old frame.
Ethan crouched behind a dumpster and signaled her to keep banging—make a distraction.
As she obeyed, Christian circled wide.
The guard turned at the noise.
Too late.
One punch. Christian took him down silently and dragged him out of sight, stripping him of his weapon.
He tossed the keys to Ethan and took position again, covering their rear.
Ethan opened the car door with shaking hands. Lena let out a muffled sob and fell into his arms the moment the door cracked open.
He untied her and pulled her close. "You're safe. I've got you."
Her shoulders shook with relief as she buried her face in his chest. "I—I tried to—text…"
"I know. I know," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair. "You were brilliant."
Christian signaled urgently from the shadows. "Road's clear. Let's move!"
They started toward the getaway car.
And then—
Bang.
A faint noise.
From behind the vehicle.
They stopped.
A slow, rhythmic banging came from the trunk of the car Lena had been trapped in.
Christian raised his weapon, tense.
Ethan grabbed Lena's arm. "We're leaving. Now."
But Lena stepped back. "No. Someone's back there. I heard it."
"Lena—"
"What if it's Vivian? Or someone else they took? We have to look."
Ethan hesitated, then slowly reached for the trunk.
The key clicked in his trembling hand.
Christian raised his gun. "Ready when you are."
Ethan took a breath.
He slowly lifted the trunk lid—
And what he saw inside made his blood run cold.