Page 165 of Fractured Loyalties
"He’s targeted you since you became part of my life," Elias growls softly. "You're his insurance."
I shudder, nausea rising sharply. "But why me?"
Elias’s eyes darken, fierce determination mingled with regret. "Because he knows I'll do anything to protect you."
Kinley interrupts urgently. "We have to move—now. Volker's purge isn't limited to data."
Elias swiftly inserts a small drive, copying vital intel. My pulse races as tension thickens, the drive’s progress agonizingly slow.
Finally, it finishes. Elias pockets it, resolve firm in his gaze. "Let's go."
Despite the fear gnawing at my nerves, we have no choice but to move forward, deeper into the shadows and truths we've uncovered.
We move swiftly, urgency pressing us forward through the labyrinthine tunnels. Elias leads, his presence a pillar of grim determination, cutting a clear path. My heart beat drums relentlessly in my chest, matching the hurried rhythm of our footsteps echoing down the cold, narrow corridors. Every shadow now feels malevolent, every sound a potential ambush.
Kinley keeps pace, close behind me, his eyes darting in alert vigilance. Despite our uneasy alliance, his presence adds a layer of security. Yet, the question lingers—can he truly be trusted, or is he merely another thread woven into Volker’s intricate web?
Elias stops abruptly at an intersection, his hand rising to halt us. He listens, head cocked, interpreting signals I can't hear, reading the silence. After a tense moment, he turns left decisively, guiding us deeper into uncharted passages, further from any sense of safety.
The air grows denser here, cooler, carrying the faint metallic tang of machinery and electricity. Dim lights recessed along the ceiling flicker intermittently, casting shifting, ominous patterns across Elias's rigid back. The silence between us tightens, strained by what we've discovered and the uncertainty of what's to come.
Suddenly, a faint crackle comes from Elias’s comm. He taps it quickly, Lydia’s voice breaking through, sharp and urgent.
Elias suddenly pauses, his fingers tapping his comm urgently. He listens, expression unreadable, before speaking softly. “Negative. We’re deep inside. New complications.”
My pulse quickens, straining to hear any hint of Lydia’s words, but the comm device is pressed tightly against his ear. Elias’s jaw clenches, tension rippling visibly through his body as he murmurs responses too low for me to decipher clearly.
“We’ll find another way out. Hold your position.” He says, finally, as the comm clicks off. Dread pools heavily in my stomach. He turns to us, expression grim but resolute, his eyes locking briefly onto mine. "Extraction’s compromised," he announces quietly. "Volker’s closing in. We need to find another way out."
The reality of our entrapment hits with full force. Elias turns briefly, his eyes meeting mine, recognizing my fear and answering it with fierce reassurance.
“We’ll find a way,” he says firmly, conviction blazing in his voice. I nod, trusting his promise.
Ahead, the corridor narrows sharply. Elias signals for silence, moving cautiously now. We follow in tense, measured steps. A faint, mechanical humming grows louder as we progress, the corridor eventually opening into a large, dimly lit control room filled with monitors, their screens casting eerie glows.
The room is abandoned, yet I sense eyes upon us—hidden, unseen surveillance feeding directly into Volker’s ever-watchful gaze. Elias moves swiftly to one monitor, tapping keys, scrolling rapidly through surveillance feeds. Images flicker, various angles of this facility, until he pauses on one chilling view.
"Volker," Elias says, his voice grim.
He's pacing slowly in the room, speaking calmly to someone unseen. His stance is casual, confident. Untouchable.
Elias’s fists clench as he stares at the screen. Kinley shifts restlessly beside me, clearly anxious to move. “We don’t have time—”
“I know,” Elias snaps sharply, eyes never leaving Volker’s image. “But we need to know what he's planning next.”
The feed suddenly flickers, switching to another angle—a stark, grim chamber. My heart freezes. There, chained and battered but very much alive, sits someone who looks like Jori. His expression blank, emotionless, but the eyes—haunted, desperate—betray everything.
Elias’s breath shudders audibly, confirming what I've come to realize: This is Jori. I place a hand gently on his arm, feeling the muscles tense beneath my touch.
“We’ll get him out,” I promise softly, and Elias nods sharply, determination reigniting in his eyes.
A distant sound breaks our focus—a metallic clang reverberating through the structure, approaching footsteps echoing softly but unmistakably.
Kinley tenses visibly. “We’ve stayed too long.”
Elias gestures toward an exit opposite our entry point. “Move,” he orders, voice firm yet steady.
We move swiftly toward the exit, urgency guiding our steps. My heartbeat pounds painfully with each stride, knowing we’re heading deeper into danger, deeper into Volker’s domain, and hoping desperately that Elias’s conviction is enough to lead us out again.
