The legacy of shadows

5,

The vehicle screeched to a halt outside the British safe-house, a looming structure surrounded by tall fences and heavily armed guards. The gates were already open for them, and the sound of engines reverberated against the high walls as the team sped inside, the tension hanging in the air like a dark cloud. The moment they crossed the threshold, the gates clanged shut behind them, locking out the chaos they had just escaped.

Max and Brody leaped out of the vehicle first, their eyes scanning the area, taking in the sea of security personnel standing guard. Soldiers armed to the teeth patrolled the grounds, making sure no threats could reach them here. The relief was palpable but brief—there was still too much at stake.

Liam opened the back door of the vehicle as Ethan and the other medics rushed over to lift Callum out. His body was limp, still unconscious, his skin cold and clammy. The machines strapped to him beeped with an unsettling irregularity. "We need to get him inside—now," Liam ordered, his voice edged with urgency. "He's still critical."

Ben, despite his own injuries, grabbed Callum's feet as Liam took the other end, both of them carefully maneuvering him onto a stretcher. Max and Brody followed closely behind, their faces tight with worry as the group rushed through the doors of the safe-house, straight into the medical wing.

The inside of the safe-house was a flurry of controlled chaos. Doctors and nurses moved in quickly, taking over the care of Callum. Ethan and Liam tried to help but were ushered aside as Callum was wheeled away into a private medical room, machines hooked up to monitor every part of him. The beep of the heart monitor echoed in the sterile room as the door shut behind them.

Max collapsed into a chair, finally letting his exhaustion show as he rubbed his face with both hands. Brody was pacing, his hands shaking, eyes darting between the others and the hallway where Callum had been taken. "We need him to pull through," Brody muttered under his breath. "We can't lose him."

"We won't," Ethan said, though his voice was hoarse. He glanced over at Ben, who was silent, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His jaw was clenched tight, worry etched into his face.

As the team was treated for their own wounds—Ben's stitches, Max's bruises, and Brody's sprained wrist—the door to the medical wing swung open. Gias appeared, looking every bit the seasoned leader as he stepped inside. He motioned for them to follow him.

"Boys," Gias said, his voice low but commanding. "I need to speak with the head of this facility and bring them up to speed. We're safe here for now, but we have to prepare for what's next."

Max shot to his feet. "What's the situation? Are we being pursued?"

"They won't make it past the perimeter," Gias assured, but there was a coldness in his tone. "For now, we're protected. But we've stirred up something much bigger than we anticipated. The people after Callum aren't done. Not by a long shot."

Brody's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean? Who are they?"

"We'll find out soon enough. I'll be meeting with the head of the safe-house to strategize our next move. But you all need to rest, recuperate. Callum will need you when he wakes up."

Max looked like he wanted to argue but thought better of it. He exchanged a glance with Brody, then Ben, who finally spoke up. "Gias, make sure they know what they're dealing with. We've already lost too much. We can't lose Callum too."

Gias nodded, his expression grim. "I'll make sure they understand. Stay here. I'll return shortly."

He left the room, his steps echoing down the hall as he made his way toward the secure briefing room where the head of the building waited. The safe-house was a fortress, designed for situations exactly like this—where they could regroup, gather intelligence, and prepare for the next phase of the mission. But even so, Gias knew the walls wouldn't hold forever.