CHAPTER 175
LUCAS'S POV
The Academy Awards ceremony had been proceeding normally for two hours when my encrypted phone vibrated with the code that meant immediate extraction was required. I glanced at the message while applauding for the Best Cinematography winner, and felt my blood turn cold.
"Hotel compromised. Children secure but under active threat. Multiple hostile teams converging on ceremony location."
I discretely passed the phone to Harry, who was sitting beside me in the row reserved for our documentary's team. His face went pale as he read the message, then he leaned forward to show Jax and Skylar without alerting the cameras that were periodically focusing on us.
"How long?" Skylar whispered, her public smile never wavering even as I watched her shift into tactical mode.
"Unknown. Could be minutes, could be an hour. But they've confirmed at least eight separate teams positioned around the venue."
"The children?"
"Safe for now. Our security detail has them in the hotel's panic room, but that's a temporary solution at best."
Through my earpiece, connected to our private security network, I could hear rapid updates from teams across Los Angeles. What had started as precautionary surveillance had escalated into active threats against multiple targets simultaneously.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the nominees for Best Documentary Feature," the presenter announced from the stage, and suddenly our faces were filling screens across the globe as clips from our film played for thirty million viewers.
The irony wasn't lost on me - we were being celebrated for our work fighting human trafficking while criminal organizations prepared to eliminate us for that same work.
"And the Oscar goes to... 'Breaking Chains: The Global Fight Against Human Trafficking.'"
The applause was deafening as Skylar stood, her designer gown concealing enough weapons to outfit a SWAT team. But as we made our way toward the stage, I could see through the crowd positioning that suggested this moment had been anticipated.
Too many people in positions they shouldn't be in. Too many faces that didn't quite fit the usual Academy Awards demographics. Too many hands moving toward concealed objects as we approached the podium.
"This is it," I said quietly into my comm. "They're making their move now, while we're exposed on stage."
"Copy that," came the response from our security coordinator. "Countermeasures in position."
Skylar reached the microphone and looked out at an audience that included some of the most famous people in the world, along with what I was increasingly certain were professional killers disguised as guests and staff.
"Thank you," she said, her voice carrying perfectly through the sound system. "This award belongs to every survivor of human trafficking who found the courage to speak out, and to every person working to end this modern form of slavery."
In my earpiece, I could hear our security teams reporting movement throughout the venue. Weapons being drawn, positions being taken, the kind of coordinated activity that preceded a professional assassination attempt.
"But I want to use this moment to send a different kind of message," Skylar continued, her tone shifting to something harder, more dangerous. "To the criminal organizations watching this broadcast, to the traffickers who think they can intimidate us into silence, to anyone who believes that threatening our families will stop our work."
She paused, letting her words settle, and I realized she was about to do something that would either save us or get us all killed.
"You picked the wrong family to threaten."
The lights went out.
Emergency lighting kicked in immediately, but in the seconds of darkness, I heard sounds that confirmed my worst fears - the distinctive whisper of suppressed gunfire, shouts of alarm from the audience, the crash of equipment being overturned.
"Stay down!" I called to the audience, drawing my own weapon as security teams throughout the venue engaged with hostile forces.
"Skylar!" Harry's voice cut through the chaos as muzzle flashes lit up the auditorium like deadly fireworks.
"I'm here!" she called back from somewhere near the stage. "Moving to Cover Position Alpha!"
It was surreal - conducting a firefight in formal wear while Hollywood's elite dove for cover between overturned chairs and award podiums. But the professional training kicked in automatically, years of tactical operations translating seamlessly to this bizarre new environment.
"Lucas, status report!" Jax's voice came through my earpiece.
"Eight confirmed hostiles in the main auditorium, unknown number in the lobby and backstage areas. Security teams engaging, but we're dealing with professionals."
"The hotel?"
"Under siege but holding. Children are secure in the panic room with our best people."
Through the chaos, I could see Skylar moving with lethal precision through the venue, her evening gown hiked up to allow for tactical movement while she systematically eliminated threats. The woman who'd given birth in a collapsed building was apparently perfectly capable of conducting combat operations in a designer dress.
"We need extraction," Harry called, having taken position behind the sound booth. "This was always meant to be a kill box. They're not trying to capture us - they want us dead on live television."
"Negative on extraction," Skylar's voice was cold with determination. "We end this here. Tonight. All of it."
"What do you mean 'all of it'?"
"I mean every organization that participated in this attack, every person who thought they could threaten our children, every criminal who believed they could intimidate us into silence."
As she spoke, I realized that the Academy Awards had become something far more significant than an assassination attempt. It had become the final battle in a war that had been building for years.
"The broadcast is still live," I reported, checking my tablet. "Whatever we do here, the world is watching."
"Good," Skylar said, reloading her weapon with movements so fluid they looked choreographed. "Let them watch. Let every trafficker in the world see what happens when you threaten innocent children."
A new wave of gunfire erupted from the balcony level, and I could see more hostile forces rappelling through the venue's skylights. This wasn't just an assassination attempt - it was a full-scale military assault disguised as an awards ceremony attack.
"They brought everything they had," Jax observed, taking cover behind an overturned table while returning fire.
"Then we show them why that was a mistake," Skylar replied.
As the battle raged around us, with Hollywood celebrities huddled on the floor while we fought for our lives in evening wear, I couldn't help but think that this moment would define everything that came after.
Either we'd emerge victorious and send a message that would end the threats against our family forever, or we'd die on live television and prove that even the most successful anti-trafficking advocates weren't immune to criminal retaliation.
But looking at Skylar's face as she coordinated our defense while wearing a $50,000 dress and enough concealed weapons to outfit a small army, I realized that our enemies had made one critical error in their planning.
They'd assumed that success would make us soft.
Instead, it had made us absolutely lethal.
And they were about to learn the difference.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
