Somewhere in Los Angeles
Randoft's beaten-up face still showed the aftermath of his fight with Gary. A thin streak of blood stained his lip, and a dark bruise surrounded one eye. He walked through a luxurious hallway lined with expensive paintings and ancient relics, escorted by a man in a suit whose movements were stiff and whose expression remained emotionless.
At the end of the hallway stood a beautifully carved wooden door with intricate, vein-like patterns.
Randoft stopped and glanced at his escort. "What is this?" he asked irritably.
"This is where you'll meet Mr. E," the man replied calmly.
"This better not be some kind of stupid prank, or I'll break your bones without breaking a sweat," Randoft threatened. However, the man remained unfazed.
Randoft opened the door and stepped inside. The room was small but luxurious, furnished with dark wooden furniture that gave it the atmosphere of a French mob boss's private office. A painting of the Eiffel Tower hung on the wall, while a lamp illuminated the wooden desk. There were no windows, making the room feel isolated from the outside world.
Randoft took a few steps forward before looking around.
"I knew it. This is a prank."
He turned around and tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge.
"Hey! Let me out!" he shouted, pulling at the handle.
Suddenly, the telephone rang.
Randoft stopped and turned toward the desk. After a moment, he approached the telephone and answered it.
"Bonjour, mon ami, Randoft. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Mr. E's secretary. You can call me Emma," a woman said in a French accent. Her voice was slightly deep but carried a soft, gentle quality.
"Stop speaking French. And where's Mr. E?" Randoft asked, his voice calm but aggressive.
"Mr. E isn't here at the moment," Emma replied casually.
"I thought I was going to meet Mr. E. So where's the prick?" Randoft asked mockingly.
"That's none of your business, Randoft," she replied.
"Here's what's going to happen, Randoft. You're one of our people now. Everything you see around you belongs to you."
Randoft glanced around the room, taking in his surroundings.
"If you're wondering why Mr. E saved you..." Emma paused briefly. "It's because your experience as a mercenary makes you valuable to his operations."
"Well, damn. Thanks for all this," Randoft replied with satisfaction.
"I'll inform Mr. E that you've received everything intended for you."
Emma ended the call.
Randoft put down the telephone and walked around the room before settling into the office chair behind the desk. Curious, he opened a drawer and discovered a shiny Glock 22 inside. He picked it up, examining it with a sinister smile.
"You escaped me this time, Allysa. The next time we meet, you won't escape again."
His expression darkened as he thought of another enemy.
"And you, Patrick... I'll kill you. Nobody gets the bounty on Allysa except me."
Holding the pistol, Randoft leaned back in his chair and rested his feet on the desk. At that moment, he felt untouchable.
Los Angeles Studios — Afternoon
Bernard drove his McLaren F1 through the busy streets outside the studio gates. Following the attack, the area had attracted a crowd of curious onlookers. He parked the car, and both he and Celine stepped out. After locking the vehicle, Celine discreetly concealed her pistol beneath the back of her denim jacket.
"Scarlet, stay close," Bernard instructed.
"Yes, sir," Celine replied.
She followed him through the crowd, scanning her surroundings. The sight of Western Intelligence Agency personnel made her uneasy. She feared they might recognize her, but she kept her expression composed and continued following Bernard.
As they approached the restricted area, a Delta Company operator stepped forward and blocked their path.
"Sir, this is a restricted area. Please move back."
"But my fiancée is in there! Let me through!" Bernard protested.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't allow you to enter." The operator stood firmly in his way.
"Please! You have to let me through!" Bernard pleaded, his desperation evident despite his efforts to remain composed.
The operator refused to move.
"Damn it!" Bernard muttered furiously.
Just as his hope began to fade, he noticed a familiar face nearby. Director Max was sitting on a stretcher while a nurse monitored her blood pressure.
"Director Max!" Bernard called out as he hurried toward her, with Celine following closely behind.
Max turned toward him. "Bernard!"
"Max, do you know where Allysa is?" he asked anxiously.
Max's expression fell.
"Bernard, I'm sorry. I lost her. The terrorists took her away. I fought as hard as I could against Patrick and Charlie, but..." She paused, struggling to recall the events. "I can't remember everything clearly."
When Celine heard Patrick's name, she immediately became more attentive, though she kept her reaction hidden.
"Max, can you remember who took her? Anything about their faces or appearance?" Bernard asked.
"I'm sorry, Bernard. I can't remember," Max replied quietly.
A nurse approached them.
"Sir, please give the patient some space. She needs to rest after sustaining a head injury from a gun strike."
"All right. I'm sorry," Bernard replied.
He stepped away, his remaining hope fading as he turned toward the crowd. Celine followed him in silence.
"Scarlet."
"Yes, sir?" she answered.
"Can you do me a favor?" Bernard asked, looking directly into her eyes.
"Of course, sir."
"Contact Alejandro and Jonathan. Ask them to help find Allysa."
Celine hesitated before responding.
"Sir, we don't have enough evidence to determine who's behind the attack or who took her. Without reliable descriptions or information about the suspects, the search could be fruitless."
"Don't worry about that. I'll provide whatever you need. Just find Allysa and bring her home. Tell them what resources you require, and I'll make sure you get them."
Celine studied his expression before nodding.
"Understood, sir."
With that, they reached an agreement. Bernard would provide the necessary resources, and Celine would coordinate the search.
Whatever it took, they had to bring Allysa home.
Beverly Hills Mansion — Los Angeles, California
Outside Allysa's mansion, the afternoon sun shone over the green lawns as cars passed through the streets and people went about their daily routines. The neighborhood was busy, with some areas lively and others relatively quiet.
Inside the mansion, however, the modern kitchen was unusually peaceful. No one was working there except Miguel, Zion, Nathalie, and Lucia.
Near the sink, Lucia carefully prepared coffee for the three. She worked without rushing, moving with the ease of someone who had spent years perfecting her craft. The clean white cups soon filled with freshly brewed coffee, its rich brown color accompanied by a strong, inviting aroma that spread throughout the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Nathalie, Zion, and Miguel sat together at the bar-style counter.
"Hmm, Madam Lucia, the coffee smells good!" Zion remarked playfully, taking a deep sniff of the aroma.
"Yep! Jonathan, our maid here, is a professional when it comes to making coffee. It's the best!" Nathalie replied enthusiastically.
"Definitely," Miguel agreed calmly.
Lucia continued preparing the drinks, a small smile forming on her lips. She straightened her posture with the confidence of someone who had mastered her routine through years of experience.
"All right, kids. The coffee is ready."
She placed the cups on a serving tray and carefully carried them to the counter. One by one, she set them down before the three could finally enjoy their drinks.
"Mmm! This tastes so good!" Zion exclaimed, his face lighting up with excitement.
Miguel savored his coffee while Nathalie took a quiet sip of hers. Once she had served them, Lucia returned to the sink to wash the remaining dishes.
"Well, Nathalie, you weren't exaggerating when you said it tasted good," Zion admitted.
"Well, I wasn't!" Nathalie replied with a chuckle.
After a moment, Miguel turned his attention toward her.
"Anyway, Nathalie, I noticed something between you and Bernard."
"Huh? What's the matter, Alejandro?" she asked, looking at him curiously.
"I noticed you gave him a rather skeptical side-eye a few hours ago. What's up with that?" Miguel asked calmly.
"Oh, that was nothing. I just don't trust Bernard, Alejandro. That's all," Nathalie answered.
"Why not?"
"It's just that there's something strange about him, but I can't quite explain what it is." She paused, her expression growing more serious. "Maybe I'm just paranoid after what happened to me and Allysa's father."
Her voice softened as she continued.
"Allysa is the only family I have left. I can't lose another family member. If something happens to her, I honestly don't know what I'll do."
Miguel listened quietly, while Zion's playful expression faded as he realized how much the matter meant to her.
A Memory From the Past
As Nathalie stared into her coffee, memories of her childhood slowly resurfaced.
"Allysa! Don't do that!" a young Nathalie warned, trying to stop her little sister from wandering outside.
"But, kitty..." Young Allysa pointed excitedly toward a kitten nearby.
"Allysa, no. It's dangerous out there," Nathalie said calmly, keeping her younger sister close.
"Okay, brother," Allysa replied in her small, innocent voice, nodding obediently.
"Nat! Allysa! Where are you?" a man called from behind them.
It was their father, Richard Wu.
"Dad! I'm just showing Allysa what's outside," young Nathalie explained.
Richard smiled warmly at his eldest child.
"You're a good brother to your sister, Nat."
"Hehe, I'm just looking after my little sister, Dad," Nathalie replied with a smile.
Young Allysa, meanwhile, remained fascinated by the kitten.
"Kids! Come inside! Dinner is ready!" their mother called out, inviting them to join the family.
"Yay! Mom!" Allysa exclaimed excitedly.
"Shall we go inside, family?" Richard asked warmly.
"Yes!" Nathalie and Allysa answered in unison.
Together, the family headed inside for dinner, their laughter filling the home.
Present Day
Nathalie's expression softened as she returned to the present, her eyes reflecting the memories she had just revisited.
"And that's why..." she murmured, lowering her gaze.
Zion looked at her sympathetically.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Nat. Especially about your father," he said sincerely.
"Me too, Nat," Miguel added quietly.
Although his expression remained calm, his mind was already turning over the details of Richard Wu's case.
"I already know what happened to your father and the case involving E.I.S, but the whole thing remains a strange mystery to this day," Miguel remarked thoughtfully.
"Thanks, guys," Nathalie replied, her voice trembling slightly as she fought back tears.
After a brief silence, Zion hesitantly spoke up.
"Nat, if it's okay for me to ask, I hope you won't get offended or anything."
Nathalie turned toward him.
"What is it?"
"Are you transgender, by any chance?" Zion asked, his tone curious but cautious.
Nathalie chuckled.
"Haha! Don't worry about it, Jonathan. And yeah, I am."
Zion's eyes widened in surprise.
"Whoa! I didn't know that! You look like a girl. I didn't even realize you were a guy!"
"Stop it, Jonathan!" Nathalie exclaimed with a laugh, playfully scolding him.
While Zion continued teasing her, Miguel remained beside them, listening to their conversation. At the sink, Lucia continued washing the dishes, quietly following everything they said.
After a moment, Miguel turned toward Nathalie.
"Nat, if you don't mind me asking you something..."
Nathalie was still smiling at Zion's teasing when she answered.
"Yeah? What is it, Alejandro?"
"Where's your mother? I mean, yours and Allysa's."
Nathalie's smile faded slightly as she considered how to explain.
"Oh, about that, Alejandro..." She paused and glanced at him. "Don't tell anyone about this, okay?"
Miguel nodded, giving her his attention.
"Allysa and I are blood-related through our father, Richard Wu, but we don't share the same mother."
Zion looked at her in confusion.
"Wait, but is Madam Lucia okay with hearing this?"
"Yeah, she knows about it," Nathalie assured him.
She took another sip of her coffee before continuing.
"Anyway, our father never wanted to talk about Allysa's biological mother. It was strange. Even when we were kids, he would avoid the subject whenever we asked him about it."
Miguel listened intently, trying to piece together the information.
"My mother, Emelda, knows something is wrong, too, but Dad always avoids our questions," Nathalie explained. "If I remember correctly, I was only six years old when Allysa, who was just one at the time, came into our lives."
She paused, searching her memories for an answer that had eluded her for years.
"To this day, I still don't know who her mother is."
Miguel remained silent, processing the revelation. Zion looked even more confused, while Lucia finished washing the dishes and turned her attention toward them.
"Some things are meant to remain hidden," Lucia remarked calmly.
Miguel took another sip of his coffee, his thoughts still occupied by Nathalie's revelation.
"Finish those first, people!" Lucia instructed, returning to her usual composed tone.
The conversation settled, but the mystery surrounding Allysa's biological mother remained unanswered.
Somewhere in San Diego, California
The deserted industrial district of San Diego was lined with warehouses, their massive structures standing quietly beneath the afternoon sky. The streets were nearly empty, disturbed only by the sound of approaching vehicles.
A Chevrolet Impala police cruiser pulled over near one of the warehouses, followed by a van.
The driver's door opened, and a man wearing a light-blue police uniform stepped out. Three more officers followed him, each wearing a tactical vest and a hat while carrying a rifle.
The man approached the van, raising two fingers and rotating them in a brief signal. His eyes remained fixed on the black vehicle as his men followed close behind.
"We're here," he announced, his voice deep and serious.
The van's doors opened, revealing five armed men dressed in civilian clothing. Each carried an AK-pattern rifle, and their expressions suggested they were accustomed to dealing with dangerous people.
One of them stepped forward with a confident grin.
"Ah, Raul! Thank you for escorting our vehicle safely and helping us transport our goods through San Diego."
"No problem, compadre," Raul replied with a grin of his own.
"May I see the goods?" Raul asked.
"Of course, padre. Follow me."
The armed man led Raul and his officers toward the rear of the van. When he opened it, several wooden crates became visible. He opened one, revealing numerous brand-new firearms wrapped in protective plastic, their surfaces still clean from the factory.
"Look at the quality of these weapons," the man remarked proudly.
Raul picked up an AK-47 and examined it briefly before nodding in approval.
"Well, the quality certainly looks good," he said, returning his attention to the dealer.
The man smiled before getting down to business.
"So, Raul, do we have protection from your position as the chief of police in San Diego?"
"Of course," Raul replied confidently. "As long as you and your people continue supplying us with weapons, we'll help protect your shipments."
The dealer's grin widened.
"Then that settles it, Raul. It's a pleasure doing business with you."
"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Kin," Raul replied with a smile.
He glanced toward his men before speaking again.
"We'd better get going. I still have some important meetings to attend."
"Of course. But before you leave, there's one more thing I'd like to ask you."
Raul paused.
"Have you heard about the woman who supposedly has a massive bounty on her head in the underworld?" Mr. Kin asked.
"No. Why?" Raul replied, his expression turning more serious.
"I received a text from an unknown number. It mentioned an actress in Los Angeles with a bounty worth billions."
Mr. Kin's confidence wavered slightly as he considered the claim.
"Do you actually believe that, Kin?" Raul asked skeptically.
"Not really. The underworld has too many agendas of its own. Why would anyone waste valuable assassins and criminals chasing an actress for something like that?" Mr. Kin replied calmly.
Raul gave a faint, knowing smile.
"That's human greed, compadre. People will do anything for that kind of money, even if it means sending their own people to their deaths."
He paused before adding a warning.
"And be careful. There are spies out there, too."
With that, Raul turned and walked away. His officers followed him, leaving Mr. Kin and his men beside the van.
Mr. Kin watched Raul depart before turning back toward his own men. One of them stepped forward hesitantly.
"Um, sir?"
"What is it, Rondo?" Kin asked.
"I was wondering about something. Isn't Raul an enemy of Don Robio?"
Mr. Kin's expression remained confident.
"I know that. And why should we be afraid of Robio?"
Rondo hesitated, but he continued explaining his concern.
"With all due respect, sir, Robio is one of the most influential gang leaders in San Diego. He has resources, weapons, and plenty of people working for him. If he discovers we're working with Raul, we could be wiped out."
Kin listened, his expression growing more serious.
"We're not afraid of him just because he has enough resources to destroy us," he replied firmly. "We have the police force under Chief Raul protecting us. He's our shield."
"Still, sir, with all due respect, The O remains the biggest and most powerful gun dealer in San Diego," Rondo replied calmly.
Kin fell silent for a moment, seemingly considering his subordinate's words.
Finally, he spoke.
"Let's focus on expanding our dealings with the other criminals in San Diego."
Without another word, Kin and his men began moving away from the van, leaving the deserted warehouse district behind them.
But the mention of Allysa's enormous bounty had introduced another dangerous possibility into their dealings. If the rumors were true, San Diego's criminal underworld might soon become entangled in a much larger conflict.
San Diego Highway — Evening
The highway stretched across San Diego, wide and busy beneath the darkening sky. Streetlights began illuminating the road as cars passed by, their red taillights appearing like tiny dots in the distance. The previously empty surroundings gradually gave way to a more developed area, with buildings and businesses lining the roadside.
Among the passing vehicles, a Chevrolet Suburban traveled along the highway.
Inside, Allysa had fallen asleep in the back seat, while Gary remained unconscious beside her. Charlie was still driving, exhausted but refusing to show it. His eyes remained focused on the road as his passengers rested behind him.
When he noticed that the fuel was running low, Charlie let out a tired sigh. He steered the Suburban toward a nearby gas station and pulled in.
The sudden stop woke Allysa.
"Charlie, are we there?" she asked, blinking sleepily.
"We're almost there, Allysa. I just need to refuel," Charlie replied calmly, though his exhausted voice betrayed how tired he was.
He stepped out of the vehicle to open the fuel tank.
Allysa turned toward Gary, who still hadn't regained consciousness. She gently placed her palm against his forehead.
"He's still hot..." she murmured worriedly.
She searched the back of the Suburban and found a cap and a black jacket. After putting them on, she opened the door.
"Miss Allysa, where are you going?" Charlie asked.
"To the store. I need to get some medicine and a thermometer. Patrick still hasn't fully recovered, and I'm getting worried."
Without waiting for a response, she hurried toward the gas station's convenience store, adjusting her cap and jacket as she walked.
Inside, Allysa gathered food, water, and other essentials for their long journey. She also picked up a thermometer and searched for medicine to help reduce a high fever.
Meanwhile, Gary slowly began to regain consciousness in the back of the Chevrolet Suburban.
His vision was still blurry, and his fever continued to leave him feeling weak. As he gradually became more aware of his surroundings, he realized they were at a gas station.
Allysa was nowhere to be seen.
Through the window, he spotted Charlie outside, waiting for the tank to fill while occasionally looking around.
"What happened...?" Gary murmured weakly.
He shivered and pulled his jacket tightly around himself, but it did little to ease the chills running through his body.
"I'm getting... chills..."
Reaching for the door, he slowly opened it.
Charlie immediately noticed and turned toward him.
"Patrick? Where are you going?"
He hurried over, ready to catch Gary if he lost his balance.
"It's... cold..." Gary managed to say, his voice trembling from the fever.
"Whoa, Patrick, just stay there. Allysa's buying some medicine for you," Charlie said, concern evident in his voice.
Gary looked at him for a moment before answering.
"All right..."
He eased himself back into the seat, positioning his body as though he wanted to lie down. His head tilted upward as he stared at the ceiling.
I have to keep myself together, he thought, trying to endure the discomfort.
Meanwhile, inside the convenience store, Allysa approached the counter with the items she'd gathered.
"That'll be $5.40, ma'am," the cashier said.
"Thank you."
Allysa handed over the money, collected her purchases, and prepared to leave. However, she stopped when the television mounted inside the store caught her attention.
"Breaking news: Authorities are still investigating who orchestrated the attack on the studios in Los Angeles. Actress Allysa Sydney Wu and her two bodyguards have also been reported missing."
The reporter displayed an image of Allysa captured by a CCTV camera at her last known location.
Allysa froze, staring at the screen.
After a moment, she hurried out of the store and headed back toward the Suburban.
Outside, Charlie had finished refueling. He removed the nozzle, secured it back in place, and paid with his card.
As he turned around, he spotted Allysa approaching in a hurry.
"Allysa! Patrick woke up!" he called.
"What?"
She immediately ran toward the vehicle.
"Yeah, he's awake. He's in there."
Allysa opened the door and looked inside.
"Patrick, are you okay?"
She placed the supplies beside her.
"Yeah... I'm fine," Gary replied, his voice still trembling.
"Can you sit up? I bought us some food, and you need to take your medicine."
Her voice carried unmistakable concern.
"I can do it myself, Allysa," Gary replied, sounding as though he didn't want her help.
He slowly tried to adjust his position until he finally managed to sit upright.
"Look, Patrick, I got us something to eat, especially for you. After this, you're taking your medicine so your fever can go down," Allysa explained calmly.
"Yeah... thanks, Allysa," Gary replied, struggling to keep himself composed despite how miserable he felt.
San Diego Highway — Evening
Inside the Chevrolet Suburban, the atmosphere had settled into a brief moment of calm. The road stretched ahead, illuminated by the vehicle's headlights as the evening sky gradually darkened.
Allysa sat beside Gary, who was still recovering from his fever. Despite his condition, he continued eating the meal she had bought for him.
She watched him for a moment before speaking gently.
"Here, Patrick. Eat up."
She handed him the meal, and Gary accepted it.
"Thanks, Allysa," he replied calmly.
"Are you sure you can manage?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of concern.
"Yeah. Thanks. You should eat your own meal before it gets cold," Gary answered.
"All right, then, Patrick. If you say so." Allysa smiled faintly before handing him the medicine. "And here's your medication. It's ready."
Gary glanced at the medicine and nodded.
"Thanks."
Allysa settled back into her seat, but the news report she had heard earlier continued to bother her. She looked at Gary and Charlie, who was sitting in the driver's seat, and decided to bring it up.
"By the way, I heard something on the television earlier. The news said we're missing."
Charlie stopped eating for a moment.
"Patrick, are we really going to go rogue for seven days?" he asked.
"Yes. The plan hasn't changed," Gary replied with certainty.
His voice was calm and unwavering, as though he had already considered every possible outcome.
Allysa turned toward him.
"Patrick, what are you going to do?"
There was something in his expression that made her uneasy. She couldn't explain it, but she had a feeling that he was planning something dangerous.
Gary paused before answering.
"I'm going to find the bastards responsible for the attack and kill them."
Charlie nearly stopped breathing for a moment.
"What?! That's practically suicide, Patrick!"
"It's the only way to keep Allysa safe. These attacks are going to keep happening, and as long as the people responsible are still out there, she won't be safe."
Gary spoke without raising his voice. His determination was evident in every word.
Charlie stared at him, struggling to process what he had just heard.
"Patrick, shouldn't we report this to the police instead?"
"The police aren't going to do anything."
Gary's answer came quickly.
He looked ahead, his expression hardening as another possibility crossed his mind.
I need to be careful with the Los Angeles Police Department, too. What if there's a mole feeding information to the people behind the attack? If the wrong person discovers our next move, we'll be putting Allysa in even greater danger.
He remained silent for a moment, weighing the possibilities.
No. I can't afford to trust anyone blindly.
"I'll handle this myself," Gary continued. "This is my objective, anyway. To keep her safe and protected."
Charlie let out a long, exhausted sigh.
"Patrick..."
For a moment, neither man spoke.
Then Charlie placed his meal down.
"If protecting Allysa matters to you, then it matters to me, too."
Gary turned toward him.
"She helped my family when we needed it most. She gave me this job when I was desperate, and I owe her more than I can explain."
Charlie looked at Allysa, his expression growing serious.
"I'm with you, Patrick."
Although his voice carried courage, there was still a trace of uncertainty in his eyes. He understood how dangerous Gary's plan was, but he couldn't bring himself to abandon him—or Allysa.
Allysa lowered her gaze.
"I don't even know what to do anymore..."
Her voice was quiet, and the weight of everything she had endured finally began to show.
"My life is such a mess. I never asked for any of this. I don't understand why these things keep happening to me."
She paused, gathering herself.
"But... thank you. Both of you. Thank you for protecting me."
Her words were filled with genuine gratitude, yet beneath them lay a sadness she could no longer hide.
Gary looked at her, listening quietly. Charlie did the same.
Charlie was the first to speak.
"Well, you know, Allysa... you're the kindest boss I've ever had."
He offered her a warm smile.
"You helped my family. You gave me a job when I had nowhere else to turn. You gave me a chance when I desperately needed one."
He shook his head slightly, as though the thought alone was enough to remind him of how much she had done.
"You deserve the world, Allysa."
Allysa smiled at his words, touched by his sincerity.
Gary remained quiet, watching the two of them.
That's right...
His gaze lingered on Allysa.
Her father got involved in exposing the elites, but she doesn't deserve any of this.
For a brief moment, he allowed himself to acknowledge the unfairness of her situation.
Then another thought surfaced.
Wait. Gary, what are you talking about? Remember what she did to you?
His expression remained composed as he watched Allysa laughing softly with Charlie.
He pushed the thought away, refusing to examine it any further.
Whatever he felt, whatever memories still lingered within him, he wasn't going to let them interfere with his mission.
At least, that was what he kept telling himself.
Suddenly, Charlie stood up.
"Wait, I'll be right back! I need to pee!"
He hurriedly opened the door and stepped out of the Suburban.
Allysa chuckled at his sudden announcement.
Gary, on the other hand, remained completely deadpan.
For the first time in several minutes, the two of them were alone.
The sound of the engine filled the silence between them.
Allysa turned toward Gary.
"Patrick..."
"Uh, yes, Allysa?" he answered calmly, continuing to eat.
She hesitated, searching for the right words.
"Thank you for saving me."
Gary's movements slowed slightly.
"And I mean it," she continued. "Back at the studio, you risked your life for me. No one has ever done something like that for me before."
She looked down at her hands for a moment before meeting his gaze again.
"Well, Bernard has helped me, too. But what you did was different. You put your own life on the line to save mine, even though we'd only just met."
Her voice softened.
"That's something I'll never forget."
Gary listened without interrupting.
For a moment, something stirred within him, but he kept his expression under control.
"Again, Allysa, it was nothing. I was just doing my job."
He paused before adding, "My job is to protect you."
And to complete the mission.
He reminded himself of that final part silently.
"Besides, didn't you say I'm like family to you?" Gary continued. "Isn't protecting each other what family does?"
He gave her a small, controlled smile.
Allysa returned it, but the worry in her expression hadn't disappeared.
"Well, Patrick... there's something I'm worried about."
Gary set his meal aside slightly and looked at her.
"What are you worried about, Allysa?"
She lowered her gaze.
"It's my career."
Her answer was quiet, almost hesitant.
"I'm afraid I might lose everything I've worked for. All these things happening... the attack, having to disappear, being unable to return to my normal life..."
She took a slow breath.
"What if people stop hiring me? What if the studios decide I'm too much trouble? What if no one wants me in their movies anymore?"
Her voice trembled slightly as she continued.
"Being an actress has always been my dream. I've wanted this since I was a little girl."
She looked toward the window, watching the passing darkness beyond the glass.
"And because of everything my father did, I'm the one who's being forced to sacrifice that dream."
For a moment, Gary said nothing.
He watched her, noticing the sadness in her eyes and the way she struggled to keep her emotions under control.
Something about her words felt strangely familiar.
I've wanted this since I was a little girl.
The sentence echoed in his mind.
The passing highway seemed to fade away, replaced by an image he hadn't visited in years.
A familiar room.
A soft mattress.
Shelves filled with books and dolls.
And a little girl whose eyes always seemed to light up whenever she talked about her dreams.
Gary's expression changed almost imperceptibly.
He remembered.
And before he could stop himself, his thoughts carried him back to a time when their lives had been much simpler.
---
Years Earlier — Allysa's Childhood Bedroom
The room was warm and inviting, filled with dolls, books, and little decorations that reflected the personality of its young owner.
Two children sat together on a soft mattress.
Young Gary sat quietly beside Allysa, who seemed unusually excited about something.
"Gary! Gary! Gary!"
She called his name repeatedly, practically bouncing with excitement.
"Yes, Allysa?" the young boy asked, turning toward her.
"Did you know?"
"Know what?"
Allysa suddenly stood up, raising both hands into the air.
"When I grow up, I want to become an actress! Like a superstar!"
Her eyes sparkled as she imagined the future waiting for her.
Gary looked at her and smiled.
"That's great, Allysa. You just want to be like your dad."
Allysa immediately shook her head.
"No, silly! My father is a director, not an actor!"
She giggled at his mistake.
Gary laughed along with her.
"Hahaha! You got me."
He paused, then looked at her with genuine encouragement.
"But that's good, too. You got your inspiration from your father. Maybe one day, you'll be in movies just like the people you admire."
Allysa's excitement softened into a thoughtful expression.
She sat back down beside him and looked directly into his eyes.
"Gary?"
"Yeah?"
"Will you be there when I become an actress?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean..." She smiled shyly. "Will you come with me to the red carpet? Will you watch every movie I star in?"
For a moment, Gary simply stared at her.
Then his face brightened.
"Of course, Allysa!"
He answered with such certainty that there wasn't even a hint of hesitation in his voice.
"I don't want to miss that part of your life. I'll be there to support you."
He gave her a confident smile.
"That's what I do best!"
Allysa's face lit up.
"Awwww, Gary! You're the best!"
Before he could say anything else, she wrapped her arms around him.
"I love you so much, Gary!"
She pulled back just enough to kiss him on the lips.
Gary's cheeks warmed, but he smiled and returned her embrace.
"I love you, too, Allysa."
He held her close.
"Forever and always!"
For the two children, it was a simple promise made in a room filled with dreams.
Neither of them could have known how complicated their futures would become.
Neither could have imagined the dangers, the secrets, or the painful memories that would one day stand between them.
But in that moment, Gary meant every word.
He wanted to see Allysa succeed.
He wanted to be there when she achieved her dream.
And he never wanted to miss a single part of her life.
It was a promise he would carry with him long after the memory itself had begun to fade.
---
Present Day — San Diego Highway
"Patrick?"
Allysa's voice gently pulled Gary back to the present.
He blinked, realizing that he had been staring at her for longer than he intended.
The highway stretched ahead of them, and the quiet hum of the engine returned to his awareness.
He looked at Allysa.
The little girl who had once dreamed of standing on a red carpet was now sitting beside him, afraid that everything she had worked for might be taken away.
And he remembered the promise he had made.
I'll be there supporting you.
Gary's expression softened for the briefest moment.
"I'll do something about it, Allysa."
He spoke calmly, meeting her eyes.
Allysa looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.
"What are you going to do?"
Gary paused.
"Something I'd do best."
The words escaped him naturally.
For once, his voice didn't sound carefully controlled or rehearsed. There was something genuine in it—something that came from a place deeper than duty.
Allysa stared at him.
For a brief moment, his expression and the way he spoke stirred a faint sense of familiarity within her.
It was difficult to explain.
Something about his voice reminded her of someone from her past.
Someone who had once promised to support her dreams.
But before she could grasp the memory, it slipped away.
She brushed the thought aside, unsure why it had surfaced in the first place.
Just then, the door opened.
"Well, I'm back!" Charlie announced as he climbed into the Suburban. "Sorry if I took a while."
He glanced between Gary and Allysa, noticing the unusual silence.
"Uhmm... I hope I didn't interrupt anything."
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
Allysa chuckled, and Gary returned to his meal with his usual deadpan expression.
Charlie settled into his seat, seemingly satisfied that he hadn't walked into anything too embarrassing.
For a moment, the atmosphere inside the Suburban became lighter.
But only for a moment.
Outside, the highway continued stretching into the darkness.
Gary was still sick.
Allysa's future remained uncertain.
And the people responsible for the attack were still out there.