Chapter 28 After the Fire #2
Adrian's face glowed on the main screen. Scarred. Furious. “Viktor. Sit down before you fall down.”
I ignored him. Moved to the maps. Started marking known locations. Shell companies. Properties. Everything we'd already searched.
Everything that had come up empty.
“We're missing something,” I said. Voice mechanical. Professional. Everything I needed to be instead of the mess I was. “Marcel's too smart to hide in obvious places. He'll use something personal. Something only he and the King know about.”
“The King's en route,” Dom said. “Ten minutes.”
“Then we wait.” I braced myself against the table. Let it hold my weight because my legs wouldn't. “And plan.”
“Plan what?” Troy asked.
“Extraction. Assault. Whatever it takes.”
“We don't even know where he is.”
“We will.” I looked at the maps. At the city spread out like a chess board. “And when we do, we move fast. We don't negotiate. We don't hesitate. We get Sebastian out and we end Marcel.”
“That's not a plan,” Dmitri said. “That's suicide.”
“Then it's suicide.” I met his eyes. Let him see everything I usually kept locked down. “I'm not leaving him with that monster. I don't care what it costs.”
Silence settled. Heavy. Final.
“Fuck it,” Luka said finally. “I'm in.”
“Same,” Troy added.
“Obviously,” Dom agreed.
One by one they nodded. My team. My brothers. The family I'd found in blood and battle.
All of them willing to die for this. For Sebastian. For me.
The doors opened.
King Alexandre entered. Rain still on his coat. Eyes red-rimmed. Looking like he'd aged a decade in an hour.
He took in the room. The maps. The team. Me standing there bleeding through bandages and refusing to sit.
“Tell me everything,” he said.
So I did. Fast. Clinical. No excuses. Just facts laid out like autopsy results.
When I finished, he was quiet for a long moment.
“This is on me.” The king said.
“No, Your Majesty. This is—”
“On me.” His voice went hard. Final. “I trusted Marcel. Made him family. Gave him access. Every choice that led to this moment, I made.”
“I lost him,” I said. Had to say. “I was supposed to protect him and I—”
“Not your fault, Viktor.” The King's hand found my shoulder. The bad one. Pain flared. I didn't flinch.
“Where would he take him?” I asked instead. Pushing past emotion. Back to tactics. To things I could control. “You know Marcel better than anyone. Where's his bolt-hole?”
Alexandre moved to the table. Studied the maps.
“There are places in this city even ministers forget,” he said finally.
He unlocked a drawer. Pulled out something old. Weathered. A blueprint tube that looked like it belonged in a museum.
“During the reform years, Marcel oversaw archival modernization.” His mouth twisted on the words. “He asked for discretionary funds to secure one spur of the old Mail Rail system.”
He spread the blueprint over our modern maps. Antique lines overlaying satellite imagery. A city beneath the city. Forgotten. Hidden.
And annotated in handwriting I recognized from files. From evidence. From everything.
The Queen's hand.
“Post-war emergency routes,” Alexandre said. “Crown-only vault access. My wife helped catalog them before she died.”
His finger traced a red line. Thin. Barely visible. Forking under Blackfriars.
“Mail Rail,” Noah breathed. Leaning closer. “Clerkenwell to the Old Royal Mint.”
I followed the line. Saw where it ended. A small box. Labeled in careful script:
STRONGROOM / CROWN ARCHIVE ANNEX
“Sealed sub-bunker beneath the Old Mint,” Alexandre said. “Decommissioned. Never public. Only five people knew it existed.” He paused. “Your Queen included.”
Noah was already overlaying modern utilities. Heat signatures. Power consumption.
A red bloom appeared. Small. Isolated. In a dead zone by the river.
“There.” Noah's finger tapped the screen. “No city feed. Private generators. Someone woke it up an hour ago.”
An hour ago. When Marcel would've arrived with Sebastian.
“That's it,” I said. Certainty settling into my bones. “That's where he took him.”
“You're sure?” Dom asked.
“Da.” I straightened. Felt purpose override pain. “Marcel's not stupid. He wouldn't hide somewhere obvious. But he's arrogant. Thinks using the Queen's own emergency route is poetic.”
“Then we go,” Luka said. Already moving. “Now.”
“Wait.” The King's voice stopped us. “The inner door. It requires the Queen's signet ring to open.”
He reached into his pocket. Pulled out something small. Gold. Set with an emerald that caught light like hope.
Sebastian's ring. The one Alexandre had given him. The one his mother had worn.
The King pressed it into my blood-stained palm. “This opens the inner door. Bring my son home.”
I closed my fist around it. Felt metal bite into skin.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“And Viktor?” Alexandre's eyes held mine. “When you find Marcel. When it's done. Don't hesitate. Don't show mercy.” His voice dropped. Became something harder than steel. “Make him pay for every moment of fear. Every second of pain. Every—”
“I will.” The promise came out like a vow. Like an oath written in blood. “I will make him pay for all of it.”
The King nodded once. Satisfied.
We moved. Fast. Purposeful. Back through corridors. Into vehicles. Toward the Mail Rail entrance hidden beneath the city.
Toward Sebastian.
Toward finishing this.
I checked my weapons. Reloaded. Made sure everything was ready.
Because this ended tonight. One way or another.