Chapter Seventy Seven

Chapter 77

The tension in the estate was palpable as the team regrouped in the war room. Blood streaked Marcus's temple, and Vanessa was nursing a gash on her forearm. Jemima stood at the head of the table, her eyes fixed on the map Dimitri had spread across the polished wood. The atmosphere was grim.

They had failed.

Ava was still missing, and Alan had slipped through their fingers again. Worse yet, the ambush at the warehouse had cost them valuable time—and possibly revealed their desperation. Jemima clenched her fists as guilt gnawed at her. She should have seen it coming.

Jay's hand brushed hers under the table, grounding her thoughts. His silent reassurance was a reminder- she wasn't in this alone.

She glanced at him briefly and gave a tight lipped smile, letting him know that she appreciated his presence more than anything.

"Let's go over it again," Marcus growled, his voice sharp with frustration. "How did they know we'd be there?"

"It wasn't coincidence," Vanessa muttered, her gaze cold as she dabbed antiseptic on her arm. "Someone tipped them off."

"You think we've got a mole?" Dimitri asked, his tone skeptical.

Marcus slammed his fist on the table. "What else explains it? Every time we get close, Alan is one step ahead. Someone's feeding him intel."

The accusation hung heavy in the air and for some reason, Jemima felt guilty.

"Enough," Jemima said firmly, cutting through the tension. "Speculation won't get Ava back. Let's focus on what we know."

She turned to Dimitri, who had been unusually quiet. "Did you find anything else at the warehouse?"

Dimitri hesitated, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, sleek device. "This was hidden in the loading dock. A tracker."

Jay's eyebrows shot up. "A tracker? On us or them?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Dimitri said, placing it on the table. "But if they're using this to monitor their own movements, it could lead us to another location."

"Or it could lead them straight to us," Marcus snapped.

"Then we need to move fast," Jemima interjected, her tone resolute. "Dimitri, get that tracker analyzed. Vanessa, I want a full review of our security—every guard, every protocol. If there's a mole, we need to flush them out."

"And what about Alan?" Marcus asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Jemima's eyes hardened. "We make him come to us."

The room fell silent, the weight of her words sinking in.

"How?" Jay asked, breaking the quiet.

Jemima's gaze was steely. "We give him what he wants—a reason to show his face."

By the time the team dispersed, the estate had slipped into a tense quiet. Guards patrolled the grounds, their shadows long in the fading light. Jemima retreated to her bedroom, her mind spinning with plans and contingencies.

She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the cryptic note they'd found in the garden. The edges were worn from how many times she'd unfolded and refolded it, as if the words might reveal some hidden meaning if she looked hard enough.

"Tick tock, Valerians. Time is running out."

She wondered why the handwriting looked oddly familiar.
The mocking tone grated on her nerves. Alan was playing with them, enjoying every second of their panic.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. "Come in," she called, slipping the note into her pocket.

Jay stepped inside, his expression unreadable. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, arms crossed.

"You're pushing yourself too hard," he said softly.

Jemima let out a humorless laugh. "I don't have a choice, do I? Ava's out there, and every second we waste could mean—"

"Stop," Jay interrupted, crossing the room to sit beside her. "You can't keep doing this to yourself. We'll find her, Jem. But not if you burn yourself out before we get the chance."

She turned to him, her green eyes searching his face. "And what if we don't? What if she's..."

"She's not," Jay said firmly, cutting her off. "Don't go there."

For a moment, the weight of everything threatened to overwhelm her. But then Jay reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His touch was gentle, grounding.

"I'm here," he said simply, planting a gentle yet reassuring kiss on her forehead.

And for a brief moment, Jemima let herself lean into his strength.


The next morning, Jemima woke before dawn. She hadn't slept much, her mind plagued by restless dreams and the haunting image of her reflection from the fountain.

"You already know," it had whispered.

But she didn't know. Not really. And that terrified her.

By the time the sun crept over the horizon, Jemima was already in the training room, working out her frustration on a set of dummies. Each punch, each kick, was a release of the anger and fear that had been building inside her.

"Taking it out on the equipment?" Vanessa's voice broke through the rhythmic thuds.

Jemima paused, breathing heavily as she turned to face her. Vanessa leaned against the doorway, her sharp blue eyes studying her with quiet intensity.

"What do you want?" Jemima asked, wiping sweat from her brow.

Vanessa stepped closer, her expression uncharacteristically serious. "I wanted to check on you. You've been... off lately."

Jemima scoffed. "Off? My sister's missing, Alan's taunting us, and we've got a possible mole in the estate. You'll have to be more specific."

Vanessa didn't bite at the sarcasm. "It's more than that. You've been distracted, distant. If something's going on, you need to tell me. We're in this together."

For a moment, Jemima considered telling her. About the reflection. The voice. The growing sense that something was wrong with her. But the words caught in her throat.

"I'm fine," she said instead.

Vanessa didn't look convinced, but she didn't press. "Just... don't shut us out, okay? We need you at your best."

By midday, Dimitri had cracked the tracker.

"It's pinging a location on the outskirts of town," he announced, spreading a map across the table. He pointed to a red dot near an industrial district. "If this is accurate, it could be another one of Alan's hideouts."

"Or another trap," Marcus muttered darkly.

"Either way, we don't have a choice," Jemima said. "If there's even a chance Ava's there, we have to go."

The team geared up quickly, the weight of their mission hanging heavy over them. Jemima double-checked her weapons, her movements practiced and precise.

As they piled into the SUVs, the air was thick with tension. Jay sat beside her, his hand resting on her knee in silent reassurance.

"Whatever happens," he said quietly, "we'll get through this. Together."

Jemima nodded, but her jaw was set. She couldn't afford to think about failure. Not now.

The industrial district was eerily quiet when they arrived. The building Dimitri had pinpointed was a decrepit factory, its windows shattered and its walls covered in graffiti.

The team moved in pairs, their weapons drawn as they swept the perimeter.

Jemima and Jay entered through a side door, their footsteps muffled against the concrete floor. The air was heavy with the scent of rust and mildew.

They moved cautiously, their senses on high alert. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant drip of water, set Jemima's nerves on edge.

"Clear," Jay whispered as they checked another empty room.

Jemima's frustration was building. It felt like the warehouse all over again—a dead end.

And then she heard it.

A faint sound, barely audible over the oppressive silence.

She held up a hand, signaling Jay to stop.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered.

Jay nodded, his grip tightening on his weapon.

They followed the sound, their steps careful and deliberate. It led them to a locked door at the end of a dimly lit hallway.

Jemima's heart raced as she motioned for Jay to cover her. She pulled a lockpick from her belt, her hands steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

The lock clicked, and Jemima pushed the door open.

Inside, Ava was slumped against the wall, her wrists bound and her face pale.

"Ava!" Jemima rushed to her, her hands trembling as she untied the ropes.

Ava stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "Jem..." she whispered weakly, her eyes widening with fear as she stared at jemima.


"It's okay," Jemima said, her voice breaking. "We've got you. You're safe now."

“Am I though?” Ava inquired as she shifted away from Jemima.

“Ava it’s me,” Jemima called out to her as she tried to touch her again but Ava moved, going to Jay instead.

“Just stay away from me Jem,” Ava called out, clinging on to Jay.

Jemima felt hurt and even though relief washed over her after seeing Ava in one piece, a nagging voice in the back of her mind whispered: “It's not over.”

And it wasn't.

The moment they stepped into the hallway, an explosion rocked the building. The floor shook beneath them, and the air filled with smoke and debris.

"Move!" Jay shouted, grabbing Ava as Jemima covered their retreat.

Gunfire erupted around them, bullets ricocheting off the walls. Jemima fired back, her movements instinctive and precise.

They barely made it out of the building before it collapsed in on itself, the flames licking at the night sky.

As they regrouped outside, Ava clung to Jemima, her body trembling, forgetting her annoyance at Jemima.

"He... he's not done," Ava whispered, her voice hoarse.

Jemima's blood ran cold. "What do you mean?"

Ava looked up at her, her eyes wide with fear. "Alan... he's planning something. Something big and he says you’re in on it."

Jemima's jaw tightened. She looked at the burning building, the flickering flames reflecting in her eyes.

"This ends now," she said, her voice steady.

And for the first time, she truly believed it.