#Chapter 73 – Rescue Mission

Victor and his team of three move stealthily through the woods. Victor takes the lead, crouching and scanning the darkness, but all seems peaceful. The Betas creep quietly behind, rifles in their hands, the night-vision sights pressed to their eyes. They move swiftly but carefully, taking no chances.

The team arrives at the Walsh property faster than Victor had expected. The team lays quietly in the grass at the edge of the woods, watching the predicted patrols move around the house’s perimeter, learning their patterns.

“This is taking too long,” Victor’s lead Beta whispers to him, “we need to move faster.”

“It takes as long as it takes,” Victor says, peering through a set of binoculars. “There,” he breathes, pointing to the back of the house. “They’ve gone into the house, a change of guards at eleven, just as I said.”

John Walsh is an old man, Victor thinks, smirking. Uncomfortable with change, he’s using an outdated guarding system that Victor knows like the back of his hand, the kind of guard system that Victor’s father used in his home when Victor was growing up. It’s effective, of course, unless your opponent knows every detail of how it works, every c***k in its armor.

Which, of course, Victor does. He didn’t build the best Beta force in the country from scratch for nothing.

“Let’s move.” As soon as Walsh’s Betas disappear into the house, Victor and his own rise to a crouch and swiftly move across the yard. Unseen, they climb up the stairs of the terrace and press themselves up against the wall on either side of the back door.

When the next shift of Walsh’s Betas emerge, Victor is ready for them. His own Betas grab the guards, chloroform-soaked rags ready. There’s a muffled fight, and then the guards fall limp at their feet.

guards after them. When they emerge, you’ll do the same thing to them,” Victor whispers, peering into the

and get off the property. If I’m not back in that time, you run without

happy about this part of the plan, with their leader in the most vulnerable position, but he forced them to agree. It’s a short timeline as well – perhaps too short

had been well-prepared for this kind of event, having obtained or commissioned blueprints of the homes

the work that he put into this kind of preparation, though sometimes it had felt like this level of preparation would never turn

of the lake, which Evelyn had mentioned being able to see from her

noted on the blueprints. Perfect. He unhooks a rope with a small grappling hook from its place on his belt, spinning it in his hands for momentum. As he tosses it up to stick to its

sure it’s secure. When it proves true, Victor begins to pull himself hand-over-hand up the rope, grateful

the grooves of the sill to pull himself bodily upwards onto the house itself. His arms and shoulders trembling, Victor pulls himself further

in a flowing white cotton nightgown, her long brown curls hanging over her shoulders. Victor can’t see her face, but with that hair, he knows it can only be Evelyn or Emma. Taking the risk, he

breath leaves him in a woosh

see his face in the window. Evelyn starts again, her eyes focusing on him, and then she gasps, rushing forward. She presses her hands on the pane and looks at him with relief in her eyes. He can see

window upwards and

glancing at the door in worry. “What are you doing here – I mean, I’m glad to see you – but

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