The timer ticked like a heartbeat on Ava's phone. Three hours. That was all they had.
The coordinates led them to the edge of the industrial district—an old freight yard on the outskirts of the city, crumbling under years of rust and abandonment. The kind of place no one looked twice at. Which, of course, made it the perfect hiding spot.
They arrived just as the sun bled through the horizon, painting the world in harsh gold and shadow. Ava stared at the rusted gate as Marcus parked the car with practiced calm. But the tension in his jaw betrayed the fire burning inside.
"You ready?" he asked.
"No," she answered honestly, then stepped out anyway.
The place was silent. Not dead—silent. The kind of silence that watched. The kind that listened.
They moved in tandem, guns drawn, sweeping the buildings one by one. The air grew colder the deeper they went, the warehouses looming like mausoleums. Every creak of metal, every gust of wind made Ava's skin crawl.
Then she heard it.
A sound. Soft. Guttural.
A whimper.
She turned sharply. "That way," she whispered.
They followed the sound to a small storage building marked 17B.
It was locked.
Marcus stepped forward, picked it with practiced speed, and pushed the door open.
The smell hit them first—blood, sweat, and something colder. Something like despair.
And then they saw him.
Nathan.
Bound to a chair in the center of the room, eyes wild with fear, mouth taped. Bruised, but alive.
Ava nearly collapsed.
"Nathan!" she rushed forward, ripping the tape from his mouth, cutting the ties. Tears blurred her vision, but she didn't stop.
He gasped, choking on his own breath. "Ava… no… he's still—"
A sound cracked behind them.
Marcus turned.
But it was too late.
The blast sent them flying.
Dust. Pain. Screaming.
Ava hit the ground hard, her ears ringing. Her vision blurred. She tried to move, but her limbs felt like stone.
"Nathan…" she croaked.
But Nathan was gone—dragged away through a trap door in the floor, the faint echo of footsteps the only trace left.
Marcus stumbled over, blood trickling down his temple. He pulled Ava upright, panic in his eyes. "Are you okay?"
She nodded weakly. "He took him again…"
Marcus helped her to her feet. "We go after them."
"No," she said. "We don't know what's down there."
"I don't care."
His voice was raw—half fury, half fear.
Ava placed a hand on his chest. "We need backup. We won't save Nathan by dying too."
Reluctantly, Marcus nodded.
They called it in. Within minutes, a tactical unit arrived. Guns ready. Shields up.
Ava and Marcus led them down the hatch, down a narrow tunnel that reeked of damp earth and old secrets.
It led to another underground chamber—smaller, colder. Monitors lined one wall, each showing a different camera feed. Most were blank. But one showed Nathan, now in another room—bare concrete, a single bulb overhead.
And Damien.
He stood just out of reach, face hidden behind shadow and calm.
The feed was silent, but the image screamed everything.
Ava felt rage rise in her throat. "We're ending this tonight."
She grabbed a headset from the table, adjusted the frequency, and spoke into it.
"Damien. I know you can hear me."
The monitor flickered.
Then his voice came through, soft, steady. "Ah. Ava. I was beginning to think you wouldn't come."
"Let him go."
Damien tilted his head. "Still so direct. That's what I've always admired about you."
She gritted her teeth. "This isn't admiration. This is obsession."
"You say that like they're different things."
Behind her, Marcus's jaw tightened. His fingers twitched on the grip of his weapon.
"You don't get to play games anymore," he said. "This ends now."
Damien chuckled. "You brought your knight, I see. Tell me, Marcus—how far would you go for her? Would you die for her?"
"I'd kill for her," Marcus said, voice like steel.
A pause.
Then Damien smiled.
"Then let's test that, shall we?"
The screen went black.
Panic shot through Ava like lightning. She turned to the team. "Trace that feed. Now!"
A tech moved fast, triangulating the signal.
"I've got a location," he said. "Ninety yards northeast. Below surface level."
They ran.
The final chamber was locked with a biometric scanner.
But Ava didn't hesitate. She raised her gun and shot the panel. Sparks flew. The door clicked open.
Inside was chaos.
Nathan was strapped to a gurney. Damien stood beside him, scalpel in hand.
And explosives lined the walls.
"Don't move!" Ava shouted.
Damien turned, calm as ever. "You're early."
"Step away from him," Marcus growled.
"I could. But what's the fun in that?"
"Fun?" Ava echoed, voice breaking. "You tortured him. You killed people. You watched us suffer."
"I showed you the truth," Damien said. "About power. About pain. About how thin the line is between justice and vengeance."
"Then let's test that line," Marcus said, taking a step forward.
Damien's finger twitched toward a detonator on the table.
Ava shot it clean off.
The device shattered.
In that instant, Damien lunged.
He and Marcus collided like wolves—fists flying, rage unleashed.
Ava ran to Nathan, cutting the restraints. "You're safe now. I've got you."
He coughed, weak but conscious. "Behind you!"
She spun.
Damien had Marcus on the ground, a shard of metal in hand.
Ava didn't think.
She fired.
The shot echoed like a scream.
Damien fell.
Still. Silent.
Blood pooled beneath him.
Ava's hands shook.
She had killed before—but this was different.
This was personal.
Marcus slowly got up, staring down at the body. "It's over."
Ava wasn't sure she believed it.
She knelt beside Damien, checked the pulse.
Gone.
Finally.
It was over.
---
They emerged from the tunnels into the breaking dawn. The sky was awash with pink and gold. Sirens wailed in the distance. The city exhaled.
Nathan was taken into protective custody. Medics swarmed him, but he didn't let go of Ava's hand until the last possible moment.
"You saved me," he whispered.
"You saved yourself," she said.
Then she watched him disappear into the ambulance.
Marcus stood beside her, silent. Watching her.
"You okay?" he asked after a long pause.
"No," she admitted. "But I will be."
They stood there for a long time, side by side, the weight of the night pressing down on their shoulders.
Then Marcus turned to her, brushing his fingers against hers. "You scared the hell out of me."
"I scare myself sometimes," she said with a weak smile.
He stepped closer. "I meant what I said. Down there. Before we found Nathan."
She met his eyes. "I know."
"I'm not going to pretend I can go back to just being your partner."
"I don't want you to."
There was silence.
Then she leaned into him, resting her head on his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her like she was something sacred.
And maybe, after everything, she was.
They stood there as the sun rose fully.
Not detectives.
Not victims.
Just two people who had walked through hell together.
And come out the other side.
---