CHAPTER 166
LUCAS'S POV
I was coordinating the final evacuation from the compound's courtyard when the explosions stopped being threats and became reality. But these weren't the massive detonations that would level the entire facility - they were smaller, more precise blasts that seemed to be targeting specific structural points.
"What the hell is happening in there?" the Romanian special forces commander asked, watching chunks of the castle's outer walls crumble in controlled demolitions.
"Skylar," I said with a mixture of pride and terror. "She's not trying to stop the detonation sequence. She's redirecting it."
Through my earpiece, I could hear Harry's voice providing tactical updates from inside the facility. "Skylar's got access to the detonation controls, but she can't shut them down completely. She's trying to channel the explosions to minimize casualties."
"Where are Jax and Harry?" I asked.
"Helping evacuate the final group of victims from the medical wing. But Lucas..." Harry's voice was tight with emotion. "She's not coming out with us."
"What do you mean she's not coming out?"
"I mean someone has to manually maintain the control systems to keep the explosions controlled. And she's seven months pregnant, so she's the slowest runner in the group."
I felt something break inside my chest as I understood what Skylar was planning. She was going to sacrifice herself to save the remaining thirty people in the compound, and she was counting on us to accept that choice.
"Negative," I said into my comm. "Find another way. There's always another way."
"Not this time," Skylar's voice came through the channel, calm and determined despite the explosions rocking the facility around her. "Lucas, I need you to promise me something."
"I'm not promising anything except that we're all getting out of this together."
"Promise me you'll take care of our daughter. All of you. Promise me she'll grow up knowing that her mother chose to save innocent people instead of herself."
"Skylar, please..."
"Thirty seconds until the next sequence. Harry, Jax, get those people to safety. Lucas, make sure the extraction helicopters are ready."
I could see Harry and Jax emerging from the castle's main entrance, supporting wounded victims and helping traumatized women toward the evacuation aircraft. Their faces were grim with the knowledge that they were leaving Skylar behind.
"Fifteen seconds."
Through the compound's security cameras, I could see Skylar alone in the detonation control chamber, her hands moving over manual switches and levers that were designed to be operated by multiple people. Her pregnancy made her movements awkward, but her determination was absolute.
"Ten seconds. I love you all. Take care of our daughter."
The next series of explosions sent shockwaves through the courtyard, but they were precisely controlled blasts that brought down specific sections of the castle while leaving the evacuation routes intact. Skylar was literally reshaping the destruction to protect the people she was trying to save.
"Status report!" I called into my comm.
"All victims clear of the facility," Harry replied. "But Skylar's trapped in the control chamber. The corridor leading to her position just collapsed."
"Can we dig her out?"
"Not before the final detonation sequence. Lucas, she did it. She saved everyone except herself."
I stared at the crumbling castle, feeling the weight of losing the woman who'd become the center of all our lives. Skylar had given us purpose, direction, and most importantly, she'd taught us what it meant to love someone completely.
And now she was gone.
"Wait," Jax's voice crackled through the comm, urgent with sudden hope. "I'm reading movement in the basement levels. Skylar, are you there?"
"I'm here," her voice was weak but determined. "But I'm trapped. The manual controls require constant adjustment to prevent catastrophic failure."
"How long can you maintain them?"
"Maybe ten minutes. But Lucas, you need to get everyone to minimum safe distance. The final sequence is going to be bigger than the others."
I looked around the courtyard at the people we'd rescued - thirty victims who were alive because Skylar had chosen their lives over her own safety. Women and girls who would return to their families, who would have the chance to rebuild their lives, because a pregnant woman had decided that love meant sacrifice.
"There has to be another way," I said desperately.
"There is," came an unexpected voice through the comm system. Henry, apparently still alive in the command center, his voice filled with what sounded like genuine regret. "But it requires trusting me one final time."
"Go to hell," Harry snarled.
"I can override the detonation sequence remotely, but only if someone inputs my personal authorization codes from the control chamber. Skylar would have to trust me with her life."
"Why would you help us?" I asked suspiciously.
"Because that child she's carrying is my great-granddaughter. And because I'm an old man who's finally realized that some legacies aren't worth preserving."
Through the comm, I could hear explosions getting closer to Skylar's position. She was running out of time and options.
"Skylar," I called urgently, "Henry says he can stop the sequence, but you'd have to input his codes."
"He's lying. This is exactly the kind of manipulation he specializes in."
"Maybe. But what if he's not?"
The silence that followed was filled with the sound of structural collapse and distant alarms. Skylar was weighing an impossible choice - trust the man who'd tried to destroy our family, or die saving people who might not need saving if Henry was telling the truth.
"What are the codes?" she asked finally.
Henry's voice came through the speakers, reciting a long string of numbers and letters that seemed designed to be impossible to remember. But Skylar repeated them back flawlessly, her memory as sharp as ever despite the stress and physical exhaustion.
"Inputting now," she said.
I held my breath, watching the castle for any sign that the detonation sequence was stopping. Around me, the rescued victims were being loaded onto helicopters, their faces showing the cautious hope of people who'd learned not to trust in salvation.
"Sequence stopped," Skylar announced, her voice filled with relief and disbelief. "Henry actually did it."
But as the immediate threat of explosion faded, I realized we still had a different problem.
Skylar was trapped in a collapsed basement with no way out, seven months pregnant, and starting to show signs of stress-induced labor.
And this time, there was no clever plan or tactical solution that could save her.
This time, we needed a miracle.
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