Part 7
The servant tunnel was narrow, damp, and smelled of old brick and earth.
It led from the basement of the mansion out toward an old boathouse on the edge of the property, hidden by thick woods.
Adrian led the way, using a tactical flashlight from one of the dead assassins.
The beam of light danced frantically across the wet brick walls.
Emma stumbled behind him, her sneakers slipping on the damp ground.
Leo was quiet, shocked into silence by the cold air and the strange rhythm of Emma's panicked breathing.
Adrian was limping.
Emma noticed it but didn't say anything until they finally reached the end of the tunnel.
The heavy iron door opened into the back of the boathouse. Inside sat a pristine, unbranded gray sedan. No plates.
Adrian threw the door open, but as he tried to slide into the driver's seat, he groaned, his hand flying to his left side.
In the dim light of the flashlight, Emma saw it.
The white linen of his shirt was soaked in dark, viscous blood.
"You're shot," she said, her medical training overriding her fear.
"Graze," Adrian growled, his teeth gritted. "It's fine."
"It's not fine. You're bleeding out. Let me look at it."
"We don't have time!" Adrian barked, turning the key in the ignition. The engine purred to life instantly—quiet, powerful. "If we stay here, we die."
He threw the car into reverse and slammed on the gas, tearing out of the boathouse and onto a hidden, dirt access road that bypassed the main gates entirely.
For thirty minutes, no one spoke.
Adrian drove like a madman through the country roads, his eyes fixed on the rearview mirror, checking for headlights that never came.
Eventually, the luxury of the suburbs faded into the industrial, decaying outskirts of Gary, Indiana.
He pulled up to an abandoned, rusted warehouse surrounded by barbed wire.
He hit a button on a hidden remote under the dashboard, and a corrugated metal door lifted just enough for the car to slide inside before closing behind them.
The warehouse was dark, empty, except for a small, reinforced steel room in the back.
A safehouse.
Adrian shut off the engine. The silence returned, heavy and thick.
He tried to open his door, but his body failed him. His head fell back against the headrest, his skin covered in a cold, gray sweat.
Emma didn't wait for permission.
She opened her door, carefully secured Leo in the backseat using a pile of clean blankets she found there, and then opened Adrian’s door.
"Move over," she commanded.
Adrian looked at her, his eyes glassy. He didn't have the strength to argue.
She helped him slide into the passenger seat, then guided him out of the car and into the steel safehouse room.
Inside was basic—a cot, a table, a massive medical kit, and a wall of weapons.
Adrian collapsed onto the cot, clutching his side.
Emma tore open the medical kit. She grabbed shears and sliced through his expensive, blood-soaked shirt.
The wound wasn't a graze.
A 9mm bullet had torn through the flesh of his flank. It missed the vital organs, but it had opened a deep, ragged trench that was pumping blood with every heartbeat.
"You're lucky," Emma said, her hands steady as she prepared a syringe of local anesthetic. "It’s a through-and-through. The bullet isn't inside."
Adrian watched her, his breathing shallow. "You're... good at this."
"I told you," she said, plunging the needle around the wound. "I almost was a nurse."
As she began to clean and stitch the wound, the adrenaline finally began to fade, leaving a raw, heavy intimacy between them under the single fluorescent bulb of the bunker.
"Why did they do this?" Emma asked softly, her fingers working with practiced precision. "The Russians. Why now?"
Adrian gritted his teeth as the needle pierced his skin.
"The cipher," he panted. "The ledger they stole... it contains the names of every politician, every judge, every customs official on my payroll. But it’s encrypted. Without the cipher, it’s useless numbers."
He looked up at her, his eyes burning with a dark, terrifying intelligence.
"The cipher was hidden in the one place no one would ever look. The one thing I never let out of my sight."
Emma paused, her needle mid-air.
"Where?"
May you like
Adrian looked toward the car outside, where the baby was sleeping.
"It’s engraved on the back of the platinum medallion Leo wears around his neck," Adrian said. "They don't just want my money, Emma. They need my son to unlock my empire."
