Jason's eyes flickered as he stepped forward, his body taut with caution. But then, as they turned a corner, they came face to face with an unexpected sight—Malia and Daphne, standing in the shadows.
Jason's pulse quickened, his breath catching for a split second before he steadied himself. His gaze immediately locked onto Daphne.
"Daphne?" His voice was low, tense.
Malia's eyes widened. Without warning, she sprinted forward and slammed into him, tears streaming down her face.
"Jason... I— I thought I'd never see you again!" Her voice cracked, her relief tangible as she buried her face in his chest. "I was so worried."
Jason froze, staring at the top of her head for a moment, before his hand slowly came up, brushing through her hair in a rare gesture of tenderness.
"I'm fine, Malia... don't worry." His voice was quiet, but with an edge that told no one to question him.
She pulled away reluctantly, still holding him, before she finally let go.
Aiden, standing off to the side, smirked.
"Well, didn't expect you to have a soft side, Jason."
Jason didn't even glance at him, his eyes still on Malia.
"How did you two get here? And why?" His tone was sharp, demanding, but beneath it, there was a thread of something softer—concern, maybe even relief.
Malia's gaze hardened, fire lighting up in her eyes.
"Isn't it obvious?" Her lips curled into a fierce smile. "We came to save you."
She paused, stepping back slightly, her gaze flickering between Jason and Aiden.
"How we got here... that's a story for later. Right now, we've got no time." She didn't wait for a response before she turned, her back straight, walking with a purpose.
Jason's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. They fell into line behind Aiden, moving quickly and quietly. The walls around them felt like they were closing in, the tension thicker with every step.
When they reached the hidden passage, the silence was suffocating. Then Malia broke it, her voice cool but edged with suspicion.
"So, Mr. Aiden," she started, her tone sharp, "you knew from the start I wasn't a guard, didn't you? And that powder you noticed on the device... why didn't you say anything?"
Aiden's gaze didn't waver as he spoke, his voice flat.
"You both would've been dead the moment your friend got the first passcode wrong. I couldn't risk the alarm going off, so I handled it. Silencing that system wasn't easy, but it had to be done." He shot her a brief glance, his expression unreadable.
Malia smirked, clearly impressed.
"Okay, that's pretty damn cool."
But then Aiden's voice dropped, low and sharp.
"And another thing..." He paused, his eyes flicking over Malia in a way that made her bristle. "There are no female guards in this place. All male. Next time..." His gaze flicked to her chest for a moment, then back to her eyes. "Try to hide that. It nearly got you killed today."
The words landed with a weight, and Malia's temper flared instantly.
"Why you—" She started, ready to lunge at him, but Daphne stepped in, her hand gripping Malia's arm firmly.
"Malia, please." Daphne's voice was tight, but calm. "I'm sure he didn't mean it like that."
Malia muttered something under her breath, but she let it go, for now. They fell back into stride, but the air was thick with unspoken tension.
A sudden, sharp blare shattered the moment.
ALERT. ALERT. PRISONERS HAVE ESCAPED. UNKNOWN OPERATIVES ROAMING.
Aiden sighed, the sound heavy with frustration.
"Well, that didn't take long," he muttered, running his hand through his hair. "We need to move, now. They're strict about this. If they find anyone suspicious, they won't hesitate to kill."
The urgency in his voice cut through the air, and without another word, they bolted.
They reached the end of the corridor, the exit in sight, when Aiden stopped abruptly.
"This is as far as I go," he said, his voice steady, but something darker lurking beneath it.
Daphne gave him a brief nod, bowing her head slightly.
"Thank you, Sir Aiden. For everything."
Aiden's eyes lingered on her for a moment, as if weighing something in the air.
"How did someone like you end up in that hellhole?" He paused. "Go now. Get out of here."
They turned, but Jason's footsteps faltered. His eyes flicked to Aiden, unreadable. He made a decision in the blink of an eye, his instincts sharper than ever.
He stalked toward Aiden, his movements swift and calculated. Before anyone could react, Jason grabbed Aiden's gun from his belt and aimed it, a perfect shot. Without hesitation, he fired.
Aiden's arm jerked back, blood splattering against the cold concrete walls. His face twisted in shock, but he didn't flinch.
Aiden grunted in pain while the others in front stopped running due to the sound.
"What the hell did you do that for—" Jason cut him off his eyes were cold, his voice low but heavy with meaning.
"They probably already know you were the last guard with us," he said, voice strained but steady. "Other guards saw you walk into our cell. If you came out without a scratch after facing people like us, it'd look wrong. Suspicious. I did it for your own protection."
Aiden sucked in a breath, pain flaring down his arm.
"You crazy bastard," he muttered. "Next time, warn me."
Then, quieter, heavier: "You act just like him."
"No, I don't."
Aiden looked up at him.
Jason's jaw tightened as he went on, voice cold, controlled. "Simon would never hurt people he truly cared about. Me? I wouldn't think twice about killing them if it meant saving them from harm. That's how I was built."
Aiden stepped closer despite the pain, gripping Jason's shoulder with his good hand, forcing him to face him.
"You're not what you think you are, Jason," Aiden said firmly. "Simon believed you had a heart. Don't think otherwise."
Jason scoffed, eyes dropping to the ground.
Aiden didn't stop. "Go. Now. And the next time we meet, I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your head."
Jason looked up slowly.
"Yeah," he said, a grim smile cutting across his face. "You do that. Don't hesitate—because I know I won't. And when you pull that trigger… at least I'll finally get to see him again."
Aiden smiled faintly, patting his shoulder once.
Jason turned and walked away.
Aiden watched him disappear into the shadows, his thoughts spiraling.
I did the right thing… didn't I, Simon?
Jason and the others finally reached the exit.
He stopped short.
"Wait," he said under his breath. "There are guards outside."
He turned to Malia. "How did you guys get in?"
"Delivery truck," she replied quickly. "It should be in front of the house. That's where we parked it."
Jason's eyes sharpened. "Then we improvise."
He pulled out the gun he'd taken from Aiden earlier, checking the chamber with a practiced flick.
"You head straight for the truck. I'll distract them." He turned to leave—no hesitation, no pause.
Daphne grabbed his wrist.
"Jason!" Her voice cracked. "You can't do that. That's what you said last time—and look what happened. They could capture you again!"
Jason gently removed her hand.
"I'll be fine," he said calmly. "Get them out."
"But—"
He was already gone.
Daphne pressed a hand to her chest, breath trembling. "Please… be okay."
"C'mon," Brandon urged, already moving.
"We don't have time—"
He stumbled.
Daphne caught him instantly. "Brandon! What's wrong? Are you alright?"
Panting hard, Brandon forced himself upright. "Don't worry about me. Let's just move."
They burst outside.
Gunfire exploded in the distance.
Jason's shots cracked through the place—sharp, precise—answered immediately by a storm of return fire. Muzzle flashes lit the darkness like violent lightning.
They hadn't gone far when the truck came into view.
Malia stopped short.
"What the— how did it get there? I swear I packed it in front of the mansion."
"It must've been Aiden," Daphne said, already sprinting.
They jumped in.
Daphne slid into the driver's seat, hands gripping the wheel.
"Can you drive?" Malia demanded.
Daphne's eyes burned. "More than the devil himself."
She slammed the gas.
The engine roared to life as the truck lurched forward. Malia leaned out, eyes scanning frantically.
"There!" she yelled. "There! Go—get Jason!"
Gunfire erupted.
Jason didn't hesitate. He fired back at the advancing guards, popping off shots with precision, forcing them back. They couldn't pin him down—he was too fast, too unpredictable. Bullets whizzed by, slamming into the walls, the ground.
"Keep firing!" "Don't let him escape!" "Move in—now!"
Tires screeched.
The truck came barreling in between Jason and the guards, bullets slamming into its sides.
"JASON, GET IN—NOW!" Malia screamed.
Jason didn't waste a second. He darted for the truck, diving into the back just as the guard's fire exploded against the side of the vehicle. The truck shot off like a bat out of hell. just as Daphne floored it. The truck shot forward.
"GET THEM!" a guard shouted. "MOVE—GET THE CARS!"
Daphne slammed the pedal to the floor, tires screeching as they tore down the street.
Jason's head was bleeding, blood running down his temple, but he wouldn't let them see him stumble. Not now. Not when they were so close to freedom.
"Jason, your head!" Malia reached out to check the injury, but Jason stopped her with a firm hand.
"Don't worry about me," he said, voice cold.
And just as they pulled out of the gate, bullets rained down on the truck, pinging off the steel frame.
Jason leaned against the side of the truck, gun raised, ready to shoot back, his face set with a grim determination.
"We're not done yet," he muttered to himself.
Jason burst through the window, glass exploding outward as he opened fire.The guards answered immediately—gunfire erupting in a deafening storm.
"DON'T LET THEM ESCAPE!" one of them screamed, panic cracking through his voice.
Inside the mansion, the sharp echo of gunshots sliced through the polished halls.
Lucien Carrington paused mid-bite, brow furrowing.
"What's all the ruckus about?" he asked casually.
A guard rushed in and leaned close to Mr. Hugh, whispering urgently.
Mr. Hugh's chair scraped violently against the floor as he shot to his feet. "What?!" he barked. "They did what?!"
Rage burned across his face as he stormed forward, signaling sharply. Guards fell in behind him without hesitation.
Mrs. Hugh stood abruptly, fear flashing across her features. "Honey—what's going on?"
He didn't answer her. Instead, he snapped his fingers at a nearby guard.
"Take my wife and the children somewhere safe. Now. And get Carrington out of here—he must not know what's happening."
The guard bowed quickly and moved at once, ushering Lucien away.
Mr. Hugh marched down the hallway, fury radiating off him like heat.
Then another guard came running, breathless.
"Sir—sir! Aiden, he—"
"He what?" Mr. Hugh snarled. "God damn it, speak!"
"…He's been shot."
Mr. Hugh didn't slow.
Didn't turn.
Didn't speak.
He just kept walking.
Outside, the truck tore across the grounds, engines screaming.
Daphne's eyes locked onto the front gate.
It was closing.
Metal grinding. Bars sliding down.
Malia noticed first. "Wait—wait! What do we do? We're not going to make it!"
Brandon leaned forward, grin wild despite the chaos.
"Don't be such a scaredy cat. Daphne, break it down!"
"No—don't do it!" Malia shouted, panic rising.
"We die trying!" Brandon yelled back, adrenaline blazing in his eyes.
Daphne didn't respond.
She floored the gas.
The engine roared in protest as the truck surged forward. The force slammed them back into their seats, the world blurring at the edges.
Gunfire rattled behind them.
Daphne's grip never faltered. Her eyes never left the gate.
Then, steady and fearless, she said—
"GE-RO-NI-MO."
The truck smashed straight through the gate.
Metal screamed. Sparks exploded. The barrier tore apart under the impact, debris flying as the vehicle burst through. The truck shuddered, damaged—but moving.
They were through.
Behind them, the remaining guards froze, momentarily stunned as the gate slammed shut again.
"DAMN IT!" one of them roared. "OPEN THE GATE RIGHT NOW!"
But it was too late.
The truck disappeared into the distance, leaving smoke, shattered steel, and chaos behind.
Jason slumped back against the seat, letting out a slow breath. "Damn… what a headache."
Without lifting his head, he turned slightly toward Daphne. "Where did you learn to drive like that? Because last I checked, the agency sure as hell didn't teach it."
Daphne's grip tightened on the wheel. "I—uh… picked up a few things. Here and there." A faint blush crept up her face.
Jason didn't reply. He looked away, then shut his eyes, exhaustion settling in.
Malia leaned into Daphne, wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug. "I can't believe we actually made it out alive."
"Hey—hey," Daphne laughed softly, swerving just enough to make her point. "I'm driving. Focus."
Brandon snorted. "Yeah, without Daphne we'd be toast. I mean, Malia nearly pissed herself back there."
Smack.
Brandon yelped, clutching his head. A single tear slipped down his cheek as he spoke dramatically. "Hey! Not so hard. I've been through a lot. You ought to treat me with care."
Malia scoffed. "Treat you with care? Fine."
Her hand clenched into a fist. "How about this kind of care—"
The truck jerked as Daphne fought the wheel. Tires screeched.
"Hey! Watch it!" Daphne snapped.
The two nearly erupted into another fight when—
"Enough."
Jason's voice cut through the truck like a blade.
His eyes were still closed.
Silence fell instantly.
He finally opened them, cold and steady.
"One more word from either of you… and I'll throw you off this truck."
They didn't doubt him.
The noise died, but Jason's mind didn't slow.
Liam.
Ethan and Flux will be back with reinforcements.
We escaped empty-handed.
They'll tighten security. Double it.
Getting Liam back just became hell.
Daphne cleared her throat, breaking the heavy quiet. "So… where to?"
Jason exhaled. "We head to the extraction by the old airstrip, then—"
"No." Malia cut in sharply. "You're injured. Both of you. You can't go back there.We can head over to my ex—" She hesitated, then cleared her throat. "We can go to an apartment I—own."
Jason didn't look at her. "They saw you. They'll dig into your background. It won't take long before they find that place. We can't risk it."
"But you're bleeding," Malia shot back. "You all need rest. We stay one night. Just one. We leave at dawn and figure out how to get Liam back."
Jason stared out the window, jaw tight. "Malia, you—" He stopped. Exhaled."…Fine. One night. That's it. We'll need every ounce of strength we can get."
Malia's face lit up. "Sounds fun."
Jason didn't respond. He stared out at the day unfolding beyond him.
Brandon grinned. "Hey… did I hear you say ex, or was that just my imagination?"
Malia's face flushed. "You're imagining things, Brandon. Those beatings clearly messed up your ears—"
"I heard it too," Jason said quietly, still staring out the window.
Silence.
Then Daphne and Brandon burst out laughing.
Malia crossed her arms, pouting, staring straight ahead as the truck sped on.
Aiden was taken to the private doctor's wing inside the mansion. The room smelled of antiseptic and quiet money. He lay flat on the bed, one arm heavily bandaged blood seeping faintly through the white,breathing slow but steady.
The door opened.
Mr. Hugh walked in and took a seat beside him, studying him for a long moment.
"You look like hell," Mr. Hugh said lightly, almost amused.
Aiden scoffed. "I've been through worse. This is nothing. I can handle it."
Mr. Hugh lowered his head and gave a quiet chuckle. Then the humor drained from his voice completely.
"Why did you do it, Aiden."
Aiden's eyes flicked toward him. "Do what, sir?"
Mr. Hugh slowly raised his head. His expression was no longer human—just cold calculation.
"You know exactly what I'm asking. Why did you let the prisoners go?" He leaned forward. "Did you have some personal attachment to them? My intel says you didn't—so why?"
"I did no such thing, sir," Aiden replied calmly.
Mr. Hugh's jaw tightened. "Don't lie to me." His voice sharpened. "You were the last one with them. So explain how they escaped right after meeting you."
"They must've taken the keys when I wasn't looking," Aiden said evenly.
Mr. Hugh scoffed. "Last I checked, you weren't in charge of holding the keys."
In a sudden movement, he stood and grabbed Aiden by the collar, yanking him forward despite the injury.
"I won't ask again," he snarled. "Why did you do it?!"
"I didn't," Aiden said through clenched teeth. "And how do you explain this injury? You're not suggesting I shot myself, are you?"
Mr. Hugh released him with a shove. "You're more than capable of something that simple."
In one smooth motion, he drew a gun from behind him and pressed it directly against Aiden's forehead.
"I do not tolerate traitors ."
Aiden closed his eyes. He didn't beg. He didn't move.
He was ready.
The trigger began to tighten—
"Honey!"
The door burst open.
Mrs. Hugh rushed in, followed closely by a security guard.
"What are you doing?!" she cried.
"Stay back!" Mr. Hugh barked without turning. "This doesn't concern you."
"It does," Mrs. Hugh said, voice trembling but firm. "Aiden has been with you since the beginning. Don't do this. If you kill him now, you may never find a replacement like him."
Mr. Hugh turned sharply. "Then explain it," he snapped. "Why did he help the prisoners escape?"
"He didn't," Mrs. Hugh said. "That's why I'm here. I have proof."
Mr. Hugh smiled slowly. "Proof?"
He shifted the gun—now aiming it at her.
"If your proof fails," he said calmly, "you die in his place."
Mrs. Hugh froze. "H-Honey… what are you saying?"
Mr. Hugh ignored her. His gaze shifted to the guard beside her, the gun still trained on Mrs. Hugh.
The guard hesitated. Swallowed.
Then spoke.
"S—sir… we found evidence that Sir Aiden is i—innocent." His voice shook. "According to the report… during your meeting with Lucien Carrington, Sir Aiden received an alert. He likely disabled it because of Lucien's presence."
Mr. Hugh said nothing.
The guard continued quickly, fear thick in his voice.
"That alert forced him to return to the underground prison to investigate. That's when—when he switched roles with another guard. That's also when the keys were taken."
Mr. Hugh's eyes narrowed.
"…Go on," he said quietly.