Chapter 23
EVELYN
I followed Ethan through the old mining facility’s tunnel, our footsteps echoing against damp concrete walls. He moved ahead of me, weapon ready, his muscles coiled. He’d been especially tense since we entered the tunnel and lost contact with the rally point, but his breathing was steady.
The emergency lights cast everything in a sickly red glow that turned the moisture on the walls into something that looked too much like blood. Each step deeper into the facility took me closer to answers I wasn’t sure I wanted.
“Stay close,” Ethan murmured, barely loud enough for me to hear. “Lab should be just ahead, through the junction.”
My borrowed tactical vest felt heavy on my shoulders, the weight a constant reminder that I wasn’t trained for this. That I was a former teacher and current general store clerk who’d spent years running instead of fighting.
But running hadn’t kept Sophia safe.
Ethan slowed suddenly, raising his fist in what I recognized as a military signal to stop. I froze, listening. Footsteps echoed from somewhere ahead. Fast, purposeful. Someone was coming our way.
“Multiple contacts,” Ethan whispered, angling his body to shield me. “Get behind me.”
Before I could move, a figure burst from a side tunnel at our backs, nearly colliding with me. The overhead emergency lights illuminated his face in harsh red pulses.
Langston.
My lungs seized. Five years of nightmares, of looking over my shoulder, of teaching Sophia to use different names, different stories. Five years of running from this man, and here he stood, barely ten feet away.
He looked the same. Immaculately tailored suit despite the chaos around us.
Silver-streaked dark hair perfectly styled.
That face I’d once thought handsome before I learned the ugliness inside him.
His eyes widened fractionally at the sight of us, then settled into something calculated, almost pleased.
“Well,” he said, his cultured voice unchanged. “Isn’t this convenient?”
Ethan raised his weapon in one fluid motion. “Hands where I can see them, Winslow.”
Langston didn’t comply. Instead, his eyes locked on mine, lips curving into a smile that never reached his eyes. “Hello, Evelyn. You’re looking well for someone who’s supposedly been dead for three years.”
My throat closed around any response I might have made. All the carefully rehearsed words, all the defiance I’d practiced for this moment, vanished like smoke.
“Hands up,” Ethan repeated, taking a half-step forward. “Now.”
Langston moved faster than I expected, closing the gap between us. I stumbled back, but not fast enough. His hand clamped around my upper arm, yanking me in front of him. The cold press of metal against my ribs told me he’d drawn a weapon.
“I wouldn’t,” Langston told Ethan, who had adjusted his aim, trying to find a clean shot. “We both know what happens when bullets start flying in confined spaces like this.”
I stood rigid against Langston’s chest, his cologne filling my nostrils.
The same scent he’d worn when he’d broken my wrist for speaking to another man at a charity gala.
When he’d locked me in our bedroom for three days after I “flirted” with a business associate. My skin crawled where he touched me.
“Let her go,” Ethan said, his voice flat. “This facility is surrounded. You’ve got nowhere to run.”
Langston laughed, the sound vibrating against my back. “I’ve always had a backup plan, Mr. Voss. Always. But right now, I’m curious about something.” His grip tightened painfully on my arm. “Did you really think I didn’t know where you were, Evelyn?”
Ice flooded my veins.
“Steam Valley, California,” He continued. “You ran to that little off-the-grid community in the mountains, but that turned out to be a big mistake, didn’t it?” He smirked. “Who do you think gave Hope’s Embrace the Tectra-X weapon to begin with?”
Ethan made a sound like a wounded bear, and my gaze snapped to him. The calm, cool soldier had vanished behind a veil of rage.
Maya, I realized. He was thinking about his love, the woman he’d lost in trying to secure that weapon.
Langston had been at the center of everything – not just hunting me, but causing the deaths of innocent people. Orchestrating the very disaster that had killed Maya, just to flush me out of hiding.
“You—“ I started, but Langston squeezed my arm harder, cutting me off.
“I’ve had eyes on you for years, Evelyn. I let you run. Let you think you were free.” His breath was hot against my ear. “It was more... efficient to watch and wait. See how little Emma grew.”
“Don’t call her that,” I snapped, the name breaking through my fear. “Her name is Sophia.”
“Emma Sophia Winslow,” he corrected, voice hardening. “I paid for her. My property. My genetic experiment.”
“Experiment? She’s a child, not a commodity.”
Something in Ethan’s expression shifted. His jaw clenched, his grip on the weapon turning his knuckles white. I’d never seen him angry before, and it was terrifying.
“You gave the Tectra-X weapon to a delusional cult,” Ethan said, his voice flat and deadly. “You armed them with a seismic device that killed hundreds. You killed Maya.”
The name hung in the tunnel like a curse.
“I don’t know a Maya.” Langston actually smiled.
“That weapon was meant to flush out Evelyn. I needed her desperate enough to make mistakes. The cult was the perfect pressure point. Isolated, vulnerable, ready to break. I knew she’d run there after I destroyed her previous safe house.
” He shrugged against my back. “The weapon’s deployment was unfortunate, but it served its purpose.
You came looking for it, and she came looking for safety. Everyone exactly where I needed them.”
Ethan’s control shattered. He moved like something unleashed, closing the distance in two strides. His shoulder slammed into Langston’s chest, tearing me from his grip. I stumbled sideways, catching myself against the tunnel wall as the two men crashed to the ground.
The gun clattered across the concrete. Ethan’s fist connected with Langston’s jaw once, twice. Blood sprayed from Langston’s mouth. He tried to roll, to gain leverage, but Ethan was beyond tactics now. Beyond anything but fury.
“You killed her,” Ethan snarled, his hand wrapping around Langston’s throat. “You gave them that weapon and she died. Do you understand that? She’s dead because of you.”
Langston’s face was turning purple, his fingers clawing at Ethan’s wrist. His polished facade cracked, giving way to animal desperation.
I should’ve moved. Should’ve stopped it. But I couldn’t.
This man had hunted me for years. Had twisted my daughter’s very existence into a commodity. Had killed hundreds just to force me out of hiding. Had looked at Sophia and seen only dollar signs and genetic markers.
My hand found Langston’s weapon where it had fallen. The metal was cold against my palm, heavier than I expected. I picked it up, my fingers finding the grip, and pointed it at Langston’s chest.
“Ethan,” I said quietly. “Stop.”
He looked up at me, something wild in his eyes that I recognized.
The same look I’d seen in the mirror at Hope’s Embrace when I’d realized what that place really was.
When I’d understood there was no reasoning with zealots, no negotiating with people who’d already decided you were theirs to control.
Slowly, Ethan released Langston’s throat and stood, stepping back. Langston coughed, sucking in air, one hand pressed to his bruised neck.
“Give me the gun, Evelyn,” Ethan said, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the rage still pulsing beneath it. “I’m okay now.”
Before Ethan could respond, my earpiece crackled violently, making me flinch. Panicked voices erupted through the static.
“—under attack!” It was Nolan’s voice, breathless and strained. “Multiple hostiles at the rally point! Alistair’s been hit!”
“The mind-control symptoms aren’t reliable,” another voice said. Dutch. “Anyone can be under control. Mrs. Longfield is one of them.”
My heart seized. “Sophia,” I whispered.
Ethan pressed his finger to his own earpiece. “Rally point, report. Maverick? What’s your sitrep?”
“They’ve got a black SUV!” The transmission crackled, breaking up on Nolan’s voice. “Heading north on the access road with—“ Static consumed the rest, but I didn’t need to hear it to understand.
They had my daughter.
I lunged at Langston, pressing the gun against his temple. “Where is she? What have you done with my daughter?”
His eyes widened, genuine confusion flickering across his face. “What are you talking about? My team shouldn’t be there yet.”
“Don’t lie to me!” I pushed the barrel harder against his skin.
“I’m not lying,” he hissed, wincing. “My operatives were under strict orders to bring Emma to me directly. They haven’t reported in.”
Something in his expression made me believe him – not trust, never trust – but the flash of anger in his eyes wasn’t directed at me.
“Then who has her?” I demanded.
Langston’s jaw clenched. “Fucking Kovacs lied to me.”
“Kovacs?” Ethan asked sharply.
“Helena Kovacs. Innovixus.” Langston’s composure cracked further. “She’s trying to cut me out, take Emma for herself.”
My finger twitched against the trigger. “Why? Why would they want my daughter?”
“Because she’s perfect,” Langston snarled. “The first viable genetic prototype. Worth billions to whoever controls her development.”
The tunnel seemed to close in around me. Prototype. Development. The words echoed in my head like gunshots.
Genetic prototype. My ears were ringing, the world going distant as the implications crashed over me.
“What did you do to her?” I whispered, my voice breaking. “What did you do to our daughter?”
Langston’s eyes narrowed, calculation replacing his momentary confusion. “She was never supposed to be ordinary, Evelyn. You were merely the vessel.”
“The vessel,” I repeated, bile rising in my throat. The gun trembled in my hand, but I kept it pressed against his temple. “Explain. Now.”
“Those fertility treatments you received?” A cold smile crossed his face. “Specialized gene therapy. Targeted DNA modifications. Emma was engineered from conception to be receptive to neural enhancement. The perfect foundation for the next generation of human evolution.”
I remembered the private clinic. The endless tests. The way Langston had insisted on a specific doctor, specific treatments. I’d been so desperate for a child, so willing to trust him back then.
“You experimented on our unborn child?” My voice sounded foreign to my own ears, hollow with horror.
“I invested in her future,” Langston countered. “Her genetic profile is worth more than your entire pathetic life. And now Kovacs is trying to steal what’s mine.”
An alarm suddenly blared through the facility, red warning lights pulsing brighter. A computerized voice announced, “Facility self-destruct initiated. Fifteen minutes to detonation. All personnel evacuate immediately.”
“We need to move,” Ethan said, his voice cutting through my shock. “Now.”
I looked down at Langston, at this man who’d seen our daughter as nothing but an investment, a test subject, a possession.
My finger tightened on the trigger. “He’ll never stop coming after me.”
“No, he won’t.” Ethan gently covered my hand on the gun. “But you shouldn’t have to wear his blood on your hands. That’s my job. Let me.”
After a moment’s hesitation, I allowed him to take the gun. “For Maya.” I stared down at the man I once thought I loved, feeling nothing but disgust and contempt. “Goodbye, Langston. The world will be a better place without you in it.”
I turned my back on him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ethan step forward and raise the gun.
The sound of the shot echoed through the tunnel, but I couldn’t bring myself to look back. My daughter needed me. Langston had been an obstacle for too long, but he wasn’t the only threat. This Dr. Kovacs—whoever she was—had my little girl.
“We need to move,” Ethan said, his voice steady again as he tucked the weapon away. “That self-destruct countdown is Rafe’s doing.”
We sprinted through the tunnels, the alarm’s wail pushing us faster. My lungs burned, but fear for Sophia burned hotter. What had they done to her? What were they planning to do? The thought of someone seeing my sweet, brave girl as nothing but an experiment made my blood boil.
We rounded a corner and nearly collided with a figure coming from the opposite direction. I stumbled backward, heart leaping into my throat until I recognized who it was.
“Trent!” I gasped.
His eyes widened in shock, then relief flooded his face. He closed the distance between us in two strides, his hands gripping my shoulders as if to reassure himself I was real.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded, scanning me for injuries.
“I’m fine, but they have Sophia,” I said, the words coming out in a rush. “Someone named Kovacs from Innovixus. They took her from the rally point.”
Trent’s expression hardened. “I know. Alistair was shot trying to protect her.”
“Is he—“
“Alive, but losing a lot of blood.” Trent’s jaw clenched. “Dutch and the others are holding the perimeter, protecting the civilians.”
Ethan nodded. “Alpha and Bravo teams? We need to get everyone out of here before this place comes down.”
“Already done. What about Langston?” Trent asked.
“No longer our problem,” Ethan replied flatly.
Something passed between them, an understanding that required no words. Then Trent’s focus returned to me.
“We’ll find her, Evelyn,” he said with such conviction that I almost believed him. “I swear to you on my life, we will get Sophia back.”
The facility’s alarm continued its urgent wail, the fifteen-minute countdown already ticking away. Trent nodded once, then took my hand and pulled me toward the exit tunnel, Ethan following close behind us.