Chapter 501 Go Alone
Emma's voice echoed through the study, her clenched fists trembling slightly. "I can't hide under your protection forever."
Michael's eyes darkened abruptly, and he grabbed Emma's wrist. "This isn't the time to be stubborn. Scarlett's got the whole Russell family backing her. Even though the Russell Group is in my hands now, don't think the Russell family is just the Russell Group. They..."
"That's exactly why I have to go." Emma broke free from his grip, her eyes burning with determination. "The Russell family almost killed Charlotte and me, and they killed your parents. Are we just going to let her go?"
The two faced off, the air seeming to freeze.
Outside, the rain grew heavier, droplets tapping against the glass like countless tiny fingers.
Finally, Michael took a deep breath. "Fine, you can go." He raised his hand to stop Emma's impending thanks. "But I must follow you secretly. I'll keep my distance and won't let them notice."
"No way!" Emma shook her head. "I have to go alone, or they'll be on high alert."
"Then let them think you're alone." Michael pulled a tiny earpiece from a drawer. "Wear this, and I'll hear everything. If you're in danger, I'll be there immediately."
Emma hesitated for a moment before taking the small device.
As her fingertips brushed Michael's palm, both of them shivered slightly.
"Promise me," Michael suddenly tightened his grip, enveloping her hand in his. "If things go wrong, retreat immediately."
Emma looked into his deep eyes, the worry in them softening her heart. "I promise."
The next evening, clouds gathered ominously.
Emma drove alone to the old pier, a nondescript gray sedan maintaining a safe distance in her rearview mirror.
Michael's low voice came through the earpiece. "I'm in position. Remember, Warehouse 23 has two entrances, the main door and the side door. I'll be at the side door."
Emma tapped the earpiece to indicate she understood.
As she neared her destination, her heartbeat quickened. The old pier was long abandoned, rusted containers and dilapidated warehouses looking particularly eerie in the twilight.
Warehouse 23 stood alone at the edge of the pier, its metal walls groaning eerily in the sea breeze.
Emma parked her car, took a file folder from her bag, and walked towards the main door, taking a deep breath.
"I'm here," she whispered.
"Be careful," Michael's voice was tense. "There might be an ambush behind the door."
Emma pushed the door open, the rusty hinges screeching loudly.
The warehouse was dim and damp, with only a few beams of light filtering through the broken roof, illuminating the floating dust.
"Is anyone here?" Her voice echoed in the empty warehouse.
No response.
Emma walked cautiously, her eyes scanning the surroundings.
Suddenly, a raspy female voice came from the darkness. "Put the file on the ground and step back three paces."
Emma froze. "Let me see Scarlett first."
A chilling laugh echoed. "Do you think you have the right to negotiate?"
At that moment, Emma noticed a figure in the corner.
It was a thin woman, curled up in a wheelchair, her head tilted to one side, drool dripping from her mouth.
"Scarlett?" Emma's eyes widened in disbelief.
Scarlett slowly lifted her head, her vacant eyes unfocused.
Her face was covered in wrinkles, her once meticulously maintained appearance now terrifyingly aged, her mouth twitching uncontrollably.
"What happened to her?" Emma demanded of the voice in the darkness.
"Retribution." A masked middle-aged man stepped out of the shadows. "The side effects of QX-309 finally showed up in her, causing irreversible nerve damage."
Emma gasped. "Who are you?"
The man didn't answer, instead raising a syringe. "Give me the file, or this drug will turn her into a complete vegetable."
Michael's voice suddenly became urgent in the earpiece. "Emma, get out! I detected..."
The communication abruptly cut off.
Simultaneously, the warehouse door slammed shut, and several men in black surrounded her.
"Did Michael send you to die?" The man sneered. "Too bad he can't save you now."
Emma backed up, her back against the cold wall.
Scarlett in the wheelchair suddenly let out a muffled whimper, murky tears rolling down her cheeks.
"She still has consciousness?" Emma asked in shock.
The man waved impatiently. "Forget about her. Hand over the file, and I'll make your death quick."
Just then, the side door burst open. Michael charged in, gun in hand, followed by several armed personnel.
"Get down!" he shouted.
Emma immediately dropped to the floor, gunfire erupting in the warehouse.
Amid the chaos, she saw Scarlett in the wheelchair suddenly reaching out, as if trying to grasp something.
When the gunfire ceased, the masked man lay motionless on the ground.
Michael quickly approached Emma. "Are you okay?"
The echo of gunfire still reverberated in the warehouse, Emma's ears ringing. She struggled to get up, her legs trembling with fear.
"I'm fine, check on Scarlett!"
"She's still breathing!" Michael knelt by Scarlett's wheelchair, his fingers on her aged neck. "But it's bad, she needs immediate medical attention."
Emma hurried over, seeing Scarlett up close for the first time.
Scarlett's half-open eyes were bloodshot, her cracked lips trembling, seemingly trying to say something.
"What is she saying?" Emma leaned in.
Michael shook his head. "Can't hear. Let's get her to the hospital first."
He quickly directed his team to secure the scene while calling for an ambulance.
Emma noticed the black-clad men had no identification, their clothes plain and featureless.
"These people..." she murmured.
"Professional assassins," Michael said coldly, surveying the scene. "They leave no traces."
The sound of ambulance sirens grew closer. Paramedics swiftly lifted the barely conscious Scarlett onto a stretcher, with Emma and Michael following closely behind.
Outside the ICU at TeleHealth Hospital, the attending physician removed his mask, his expression grave.
"The patient has suffered prolonged abuse and drug experimentation, causing severe nerve damage. But surprisingly, some areas of her cerebral cortex are still active."
"Can she recover?" Emma asked urgently.
The doctor hesitated. "It's unlikely, but not impossible. With systematic treatment, she might regain some cognitive functions."
Michael's brow furrowed. "What kind of drug causes this damage?"
"A nerve suppressant, similar to QX-309 but more potent," the doctor said quietly. "This drug is banned in the country because it causes irreversible brain damage."
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
