CH.95

~At another location~

The night stretched before Seven like an impenetrable veil, concealing the high-security compound.

His boots fell in near-silent steps on the rain-slicked pavement as he approached the huge gates before him.

His fingers tightened around the grip of his suppressed pistol while his piercing gaze swept over the armed guards patrolling the perimeter, assessing their patterns and positioning like a seasoned predator chasing its prey.

Their presence was but a minor obstacle, one he would neutralize with ruthless efficiency.

Drawing a steadying breath into his lungs, he slipped into the darkness, cloaking the compound. He moved with a grace that rendered him all but invisible... like a wraith in the darkest of hours.

The first guard never even saw him coming. One moment, he was standing at his post, shoulders squared with his gun at the ready, and the next, Seven's gloved hand was clamped over his mouth to stifle any chance of a warning cry.

He gave the guard’s neck a sharp, practiced twist, and the guard's eyes rolled back before crumpling to the ground like a stringless puppet.

Seven's movements were fluid, each action calculated with precision as he dispatched the remaining sentries one by one, neutralizing them with brutal efficiency borne from years of specialized training and experience.

A soft rustling reached his ears, and he immediately pivoted on the balls of his feet.

"Took you long enough," Seven’s gruff voice grunted, though muffled slightly by the fabric covering the lower half of his face.

Killian’s lip curled ever so slightly. "I’m exactly on time," he countered flatly. "Had to take care of a few stragglers on the east side."

Seven jerked his head toward the compound's entrance in an impatient motion. "Now quit your bitching and let's get moving before we hit any more snags and this whole thing gets blown."

Without another word, Killian fell into step beside his partner. His expression turned into that of a skilled hitman as they merged with the darkness like shadows.

They continued leaving trails of dead bodies in their wake. The guards were never aware of the threat until it was far too late. Not that they would have stood a chance.

Seven and his Killian were little more than wraiths, flitting between the pools of dim illumination cast by the exterior lighting with stealth and silence.

They soon breached the inner sanctum of the compound.

Seven's gaze swept over the rows of heavily reinforced cells with a critical, assessing eye, cataloging every potential exit and blind spot like a tactical map being seared into his consciousness.

His jaw flexed beneath his features. His nostrils flared, assaulted by the thick, cloying scents of stale sweat, fear, and destitution that permeated the dank air.

Seven couldn’t believe their target was somewhere in this maze of frigid steel and concrete, waiting for help.

His grip tightened on his weapon. Failure was not an option on this mission. Not when Knox had placed his trust on their success.

He gave Killian a curt nod before they both pressed forward, every fiber of their being focused on the task at hand with an intensity that bordered on fanatical.

Their hypersensitive ears strained for any sound that might betray an approaching threat.

Killian's hulking figure moved with grace that belied his massive stature and heavily muscled frame.

The man was built like a literal mountain, with shoulders so broad they seemed to span the width of the corridor and arms that strained against the confines of his clothes. And yet, he advanced with stealth, his movements flawless and controlled like a great panther stalking its next meal.

"Over there," Killian rasped abruptly.

He jerked his chin in a subtle motion toward a shadowed alcove ahead, his eyes glinting in the dim illumination spilling through the grated windows high above.

Seven's gaze followed Killian's line of sight, his grip tightening on his weapon reflexively when a figure huddled in the far corner of one of the cells came into view.

He motioned for Killian to take point with a hand signal as they approached with cautious, measured steps.

The figure stirred with a slight groan, lifting his head in a sluggish motion as if rousing from a deep slumber or the throes of unconsciousness.

"Easy there, pal," Killian rumbled in his low timbre. "We're here to get you out, not cause any more trouble than is strictly necessary."

The figure stilled, seeming to size them up through narrowed, wary eyes in the shadowed depths of the cell. "Who sent you?" he rasped out in a hoarse voice laced with pain and exhaustion, as if speaking was a monumental effort that drained what little reserves of energy he had left.

Seven stepped forward and leveled an assessing look at the captive through the bars of the cell. His eyes were as cold and devoid of emotion as he studied the prisoner with detachment. "That's not important right now.” His tone left no room for argument or debate.

"What matters is that we need to move before more of Crassus' hired muscle shows up to ruin the party. You can play twenty questions and get the full debrief once we're out of this shithole and somewhere secure. So listen to him," Killian growled in a low voice. "Unless you want to rot in this hellhole and leave your family wondering what happened to you."

That seemed to give the captive pause. His entire body went still as Killian's words landed like a physical blow.

For a long, tense moment, the only sound was his ragged breathing as they weighed his options. Should he trust these mysterious armed strangers or remain imprisoned at the mercy of his cruel captors?

Finally, he gave a sluggish nod of acquiescence. His movements were pained from apparent mistreatment and deprivation at the hands of his jailer.

Seven motioned for Killian to take the lead with another series of terse hand signals, his senses on high alert as they retraced their steps back toward the exit they'd breached.

However, the sudden sound of approaching footsteps echoing loudly down the corridor had Seven cursing vehemently under his breath.

He whipped around with speed, his gun leveled and sighted before the rest of his body had even completed the turn, just in time for a group of armed guards to round the corner up ahead with lasers pointing at them.