CHAPTER 155
HENRY'S POV
From my position in the command helicopter circling the monastery, I watched my granddaughter's desperate attempts at tactical planning with something approaching pride. Even seven months pregnant and trapped by overwhelming force, she was still thinking three moves ahead, still trying to find ways to protect the people she loved.
Jack had been many things - violent, unpredictable, useful in his way - but he'd lacked vision. He'd seen Skylar as a tool for his personal gratification, a weapon to be used and discarded when it no longer served his immediate needs.
I saw her as she truly was: the culmination of three generations of careful breeding and psychological conditioning. A perfect fusion of Mitchell cunning and maternal protectiveness that made her infinitely more dangerous than her father had ever been.
"Sir," Colonel Kozlov's voice came through my headset, "teams are in position. We can extract the primary target within ten minutes."
"No," I said, adjusting the binoculars to get a better view of the monastery's upper floors. "Let her come to us."
"Sir?"
"My granddaughter has spent her entire adult life being underestimated by men who thought they could control her. Her father tried force, William tried manipulation, even those three devoted boys of hers try protection. None of them understand what actually motivates her."
Through the monastery's windows, I could see the four of them arguing about escape strategies. Skylar was gesturing toward the door, clearly advocating for some kind of direct action, while the men were trying to convince her to find a safer alternative.
"What does motivate her?" Kozlov asked.
"The need to sacrifice herself for others. It's both her greatest strength and her most exploitable weakness. She can't resist putting herself in danger if it means protecting innocent people."
I pressed the button that connected me to the monastery's communication system. "Skylar, dear child, are you listening?"
"I'm listening, Henry."
"Excellent. I want you to understand something about your current situation. Those three young men you've surrounded yourself with - they're remarkably well-trained, aren't they? Military backgrounds, extensive combat experience, absolute loyalty to you and your unborn child."
"Get to the point."
"The point is that I have something they want, and they have something I need. A trade seems appropriate."
I gestured to Kozlov, who signaled the teams positioned around the building's lower levels. Within seconds, my men were escorting a group of captives into the monastery's main courtyard.
"Look out your window, granddaughter."
From my elevated position, I could see Skylar moving to the window, could imagine her sharp intake of breath as she saw what we'd brought her.
Fifteen children, ranging in age from perhaps eight to sixteen, all bound and clearly terrified. But these weren't random victims - these were the sons and daughters of federal agents, prosecutors, and international law enforcement officials who'd dedicated their careers to fighting trafficking networks.
"You recognize some of them, don't you?" I continued. "The girl on the left is Agent Martinez's daughter. The boy beside her belongs to the prosecutor who sent William to prison. The teenager at the end? His father led the task force that dismantled your father's original network."
Through the window, I could see Skylar's face contorting with rage and horror. Beside her, the three men were clearly struggling with the tactical implications of what they were seeing.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice tight with barely controlled fury.
"I want you to make a choice. Walk out of that building and surrender yourself to my custody, and those children go free. Continue to resist, and I start executing them one by one until you comply."
"And my... my team?"
"Your devoted protectors are welcome to try rescuing you once you're in my custody. I rather look forward to seeing what they're capable of when properly motivated."
The silence that followed was exactly what I'd expected. Skylar was weighing impossible odds, calculating the cost of compliance against the cost of resistance, trying to find some third option that would save everyone.
But there was no third option. I'd made sure of that.
"You have five minutes to decide," I said. "After that, I begin demonstrating what happens to children whose parents oppose the Mitchell family legacy."
I switched off the communication system and settled back to watch the most important psychological operation of my career unfold. Everything I'd built over the past three years - the alliances with competing criminal organizations, the systematic elimination of rivals, the careful positioning of assets across multiple continents - all of it had been leading to this moment.
"Sir," Kozlov said, "what if she chooses to fight anyway? What if she's willing to let those children die rather than surrender?"
"Then she's not the granddaughter I think she is, and our entire strategy needs revision." I adjusted the binoculars again, focusing on the window where Skylar was clearly having an intense conversation with her three companions. "But she won't fight. She can't. It's not in her nature to sacrifice innocent children for her own safety."
"And if the men try to mount a rescue operation?"
"Then we'll have the opportunity to test their skills against overwhelming odds. Either they'll succeed, proving they're worthy of inclusion in our organization, or they'll die trying, removing potential obstacles to Skylar's cooperation."
Through the monastery windows, I could see movement - figures shifting position, weapons being checked, final preparations being made for whatever desperate plan they'd settled on.
"Movement in the building," one of my team leaders reported through the radio. "Multiple targets heading toward different exit points."
"Let them come," I said. "But remember - the pregnant woman is not to be harmed under any circumstances. As for the others..."
I paused, thinking about the three young men who'd managed to destroy my son's empire, eliminate my granddaughter's father, and build an international reputation as anti-trafficking specialists.
"As for the others, I'm curious to see what they're really capable of when they have nothing left to lose."
The monastery's main door opened, and a single figure emerged with hands raised. Even from my elevated position, I could see it was Skylar, moving with the careful gait of advanced pregnancy but radiating the kind of controlled fury that had made her famous.
"Target acquired," Kozlov reported. "Should we move to intercept?"
"Not yet. Let's see what kind of surprise her boys have planned for us."
Because despite all my planning and preparation, despite the overwhelming tactical advantage and psychological leverage I'd assembled, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something important.
Something about the way Skylar carried herself as she walked toward what should have been certain capture.
Something that suggested this surrender might not be the victory I thought it was.
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