The submarine started to slow.
It was around one hundred meters from the shoreline. Brendon staggered on its top deck as it reversed its engines to come to a complete stop. This was as far as it could take him. The water around the hull was crystal clear. It seemed tropical.
Brendon dove into the clear waters and swam slowly to the shore. As he did, the submarine pulled back and submerged into the sea. He waded through the surf and fell onto the sand panting. He was alone now. The only sounds were the waves and the chirping of birds from the jungles that bordered the long, white sandy beach.
It was breathtaking.
A lush green wall that rolled up steep hills into the island's interior. Brendon pulled out his locator, its screen lit up with the map. A faint line traced a route. He studied the path carefully, the terrain was mapped out on a topographical display. Wherever Grace was, it seemed to be on top of a steep hill about ten kilometers into the center of the island. It was going to be a tough trek.
Brendon steeled himself.
He took a moment to look himself over. No visible injuries, not even fatigue, but given his persona profile that was hardly surprising. He took off the ops vest and dropped it on the sand. He had no rifle now, so no need to carry the ammo anymore. He peeled off his soaking jacket and ditched it. The island seemed tropical, he wanted to stay cool. He scavenged a few bits from the pockets and took his first steps into the dense bush.
After a long hard trek, Brendon finally emerged into a clearing.
The villa loomed on a gentle slope. Its modern design was tastefully juxtaposed with the raw nature that surrounded it. It was the kind of contrast that Grace had always appreciated, old and new, high tech and traditional. Large, floor-to-ceiling windows glimmered in the sunlight, reflecting the dappled light from the jungle's vegetation. It looked like a luxurious refuge, a place to come for tranquility.
Brendon approached cautiously.
The perimeter wall encircling the villa was high. Constructed from natural stone, vines crept up its sides, camouflaging the compound into the lush greenery. The air was still, and the villa appeared quiet. He began to skirt the perimeter wall, staying low and close, moving stealthily and deliberately, eyes scanning for any sign of movement or detection.
Then he spotted something.
A large gnarled old tree with wide branches listed towards the property. Its low branches overhung into the garden. Brendon moved quickly, approaching the base. He grasped the rough bark and began to climb. His trained muscles made light work of the ascent. He moved like a gymnast. Leaping with fluid ease from hold to hold until he reached one of the thicker branches.
The view from above provided him a glimpse into the property and its grounds. It was elegant and beautiful. Manicured lawns, flawless plants of every colour. A fountain and several modern garden sculptures dotted at tasteful spacings. There was a pool that glistened, reflecting the sun, while the surrounding foliage framed it like a painting.
Then with all the precision and poise of a tight-rope-walker he seemingly strolled along the branch, and casually dropped at the end into a neat commando roll. He let his eyes and ears scan for any indication that he had been noticed.
None came.
He skirted around the lush interior of the garden keeping as close to the wall as he could, his senses heightened as he moved cautiously. He couldn't see any form of security. He couldn't detect any cameras or sensors, but that didn't mean there weren't any. The air was fragrant with the sweet scent of hibiscus and jasmine.
The garden featured a meandering stone path that wound through to a small Japanese zen garden. It had a small koi pond where fish darted beneath the surface. Fronds from palm trees swayed overhead, their shadows played across the path. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves. Jungle animals hollered and called.
Brendon continued his careful infiltration. He spotted a set of stairs nestled between two towering ferns. The stairs ascended to a large patio area that wrapped around the back of the villa.
He climbed the steps slowly.
The patio was expansive, lined with smooth, polished stone tiles that glimmered under the sun. A series of comfortable lounge chairs and tables faced toward the ocean view, and potted plants dotted the edges. A vast white canvas umbrella gently swayed over a couple of couches in the far corner.
Brendon spotted large sliding patio doors. They stood open.
He glanced around, ensuring the coast was clear, and slipped inside.
He was in a living room. A tasteful blend of modern elegance and tropical charm. The floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the patio flooded the space with natural light and framed views of the jungle and ocean beyond. A plush sectional sofa sat in the centre, adorned with soft cushions in hues of cream and turquoise. The walls were painted a soft, warm white, which complemented the rich wooden accents that added warmth to the airy space. Light linen curtains wafted gently in the airflow.
A coffee table, made of mahogany, rested on a large, woven rug that anchored the room. Modern art pieces were scattered along the walls. Vibrant landscapes and abstract designs. A few potted plants brought life to the room, their leaves dancing gently in the breeze.
Brendon stood still. Absorbing the seeming familiarity of the space.
He could sense Grace's hand here.
Brendon crept across the room. The plush carpet muffled his movements, but he remained acutely aware of the stillness inside the villa.
At the back of the room, he could see a line of columns and arches that looked like they backed onto a raised corridor. It tracked the back of the room. A set of stairs led up to it. He climbed them slowly, careful not to make a sound. The corridor stretched before him, its polished wooden floor gleaming in the sun that shone through a couple of doorways along the wall to his left. There was a large open door at the end that appeared to drop into a kitchen. As he approached, a noise broke the silence. A soft clattering sound jacked his alertness. He moved cautiously, inching closer. He peeked around the corner, and the kitchen unfolded before him.
A bright, airy space filled with modern appliances and a large island in the centre. More sunlight streamed through the window above the sink, illuminating the cream-coloured marble countertops, creating a warm glow.
The room fizzed with the scents of herbs and spices, while shelves lined the walls, filled with cookbooks, decorative jars, and potted herbs. Grace always said that the kitchen was the heart of any home, so this space would have been a dream come true for her.
Then he saw her.
She stood at the sink, her back to him, gazing out of the window. Her hair cascaded down around her shoulders in gentle waves, catching the light and shimmering like spun gold. Her toned figure was just visible through a flowing white linen shirt. She seemed as though she may be lost in thought.
He took a step forward, crossing the room quickly and silently, his heart now well and truly in his throat. The cool, calm demeanor of his persona struggled to hold back the natural surge of emotions the real him was feeling. Then, his voice barely above a whisper, he spoke. "Grace…"
At the sound of his words, Grace spun around, shock etched across her face. Her hazel eyes widened in disbelief as they locked onto Brendon.
Brendon stared back.
Her face was vibrant, crisp and healthy. She looked like she had the day they'd met. Her skin, flawless, her eyes bright. Brendon hadn't seen her look like this for a long, long time.
For some reason this made him sad.
He moved closer, his voice low but intense.
"Grace, we don't have much time."
Her brows knitted in confusion. She looked him up and down, absorbing his unfamiliar look. "What do you mean? Brendon, what are you doing here? What's going on?" She looked around the room as if checking if he was alone.
He took a breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions now bubbling through, trying to overwhelm him. "You're in danger. This place isn't what you think it is."
Her eyes searched his, confusion morphing into concern. "What do you mean?"
"I went to The Blight. I know about the game of life that people play down there. I know how it all works. This place, The Sanctuary, it's just a facade."
Grace's expression shifted, the warmth in her eyes giving way to a flicker of fear. "What are you talking about?"
"They're harvesting organs, Grace. There's a facility where they take people, once they're under, and strip them of their organs. It's an organ harvesting scam, and you're in it."
The colour drained from her face as his words sank in. "What? No… it's not what you think."
Brendon stepped closer, lowering his voice further. "It is. You're scheduled for a procedure in around eighteen hours. They're going to remove your heart and lungs. You need to leave with me now."
Grace's breath hitched, her disbelief fading into panic. "Brendon, I can't…" Her words trailed off. "You shouldn't be here."
"You're not safe! Look, I'll explain everything later, but we need to move now. I'm waiting for you on the outside, near the facility where you're being held. I'll get to you once you wake. But you have to trust me, Grace. We have to move fast."
She stared at him, the reality of his words crashing over her. Brendon reached out, his hand gripping hers, grounding her amidst the shock of the last couple of minutes.
"Please," he implored, urgency lacing his voice. "We don't have much time."
Brendon searched Grace's eyes; confusion started to flood his mind. "What's the matter?"
She hesitated, her gaze shifting to the floor as if the tiles held the answers. "Brendon, it's not that simple."
His heart sank. "What do you mean? They're going to cut you open!"
"I know," Grace interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Dorian told me before he sent me here. Before I decided to come here."
Shock coursed through Brendon like ice water. "What? You knew? And you came? What the fuck, Grace!" The words tumbled out, disbelief etched on his face.
Grace's expression hardened, a flicker of defiance now sparking in her eyes, but before he could respond, the soft sound of footsteps echoed through the kitchen.
Brendon turned, and his heart dropped as two young children entered the kitchen. A girl, around eight, with wild curls and bright eyes, tugged on the sleeve of her older brother, who appeared to be about twelve. The boy's demeanour radiated a protective air over his sister.
"Mom?" the girl chirped, her voice sweet and innocent, oblivious to the tension that filled the room.
Brendon felt a chill run down his spine. He hadn't expected this, and the sight of them shifted everything.
Grace walked over and knelt to the girl's level, a soft smile gracing her lips as she brushed a stray curl from her daughter's face. "What are you two doing in here? Are you hungry?"
Brendon stood frozen, the new reality of his situation starting to sink into him deeper. He steadied himself on a countertop and stroked his chin while slowly watching Grace and her children.