Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#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 Uncomfortable with change, he’s using an outdated guarding system that Victor knows like the back of his hand, the kind of guard system that Victor’s father used in his home when Victor was growing up.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.

will see that they haven’t reported. The next step will be to send two more guards after them. When they emerge, you’ll do the same thing to them,” Victor whispers, peering into the house. “When they, too, fail to respond after

minutes,” Victor says, “to get Evelyn and get off the property. If I’m not back in that time, you run

a short timeline as well – perhaps too short – but they’re committed. With that, Victor crouches and

team had spent hours, that afternoon, scanning the blueprints of Walsh’s home, trying to determine the most likely place where Evelyn would be held. Victor had been well-prepared for this kind of event, having obtained or commissioned

notch. Today, he’s grateful for the work that he put into this kind of preparation,

along the wall, heading toward the side of the house, where the family’s personal bedrooms are more likely to be. He’s aiming, in particular, for a small suite with a view of the lake, which Evelyn had mentioned being able to see from her room as a child. It would align with Walsh’s condescending view of his daughter, Victor thinks, to send her back to her childhood room, rather than a guest room

had 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 spot on the second story, Victor prays, silently,

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

window, Victor abandons the rope, working his fingers into the grooves of the sill to pull himself bodily upwards onto the house itself. His arms and shoulders trembling, Victor pulls himself further up so that

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 taps on the

woman gasps and spins, surprised by the noise. Victor’s breath leaves him in a woosh as he

knows that he’s running out of time. He hoists himself up further so that she can see his face in the window. Evelyn starts again, her eyes focusing on him, and then she gasps, rushing forward.

finger from the window sill and points upwards, indicating that Evelyn should open the window. Gasping and hitting her head with her hand for making him hang there, Evelyn pushes the window upwards and reaches out to grab Victor by the back of the shirt, helping to haul him into the room. They both fall on the floor with a thump, at which Evelyn grimaces, worried about the

hisses, glancing at the door in worry. “What are you doing here – I mean, I’m