The Missing Pattern

No Way Out Part 10

The darkness was absolute. The world dissolved into chaos and shadows, the air so thick with dust and smoke that I could barely see my own hands. My ears rang from the blast, disorienting me further. I reached instinctively for my earpiece, desperate for any sound of Reese, Calvin—anyone. But there was nothing. Just static.

"Calvin? Reese? Come in!" I choked, hoping for a miracle, but silence stretched through the line. I felt the icy weight of isolation settle over me.

My gun. I needed it. I dropped to my knees, feeling blindly through the rubble. My fingers brushed over shards of broken glass and twisted metal, but my weapon was nowhere to be found. Panic surged up in my throat as I continued to search, each passing second feeling like an eternity. Every nerve in my body screamed for me to move, to run, but I couldn't leave unarmed.

Footsteps. Close. Heavy. Cautious.

I stilled, the hairs on my neck rising as the shadows shifted in the haze. My heart pounded as I looked up—and there, standing among the wreckage, was Yang. He stumbled through the smoke, his face etched with pain, his left arm clutching his side. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining his shirt dark. Relief flooded over me, a fragile tether in the overwhelming darkness.

"Yang!" I gasped, crawling over debris to reach him. But as I neared, I saw the fear in his eyes. His body sagged under the weight of his own injury, but he forced himself to stand tall, the stubborn pride I'd come to recognize etched in every line of his face.

"Kitty," he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. "They set us up. They...they wanted us here. They knew."

Another explosion rocked the floor beneath us, and we both dropped, the impact of the blast rattling through our bones. Pain flared through my side, hot and sharp. I gritted my teeth, fighting the instinct to curl in on myself. But Yang—he was barely holding on.

The room spun as I struggled to my feet, pulling Yang up with me. We were both shot, bleeding, stumbling. I could hear the faint shuffle of footsteps nearby, the men who'd trapped us circling like vultures, waiting for us to fall.

"We have to keep moving," I rasped, adrenaline the only thing keeping me upright. I knew we didn't have long. Every instinct screamed that they were closing in.

But just as I thought the shadows would swallow us, I heard a voice—a voice I'd given up on hearing again.

"Harper! Hang on!"

Calvin. I turned, squinting through the haze as he and Reese appeared, their faces grim, their weapons drawn. They sprinted toward us, eyes sweeping the debris-strewn room, covering each other as they closed the distance.

"Reese! Calvin!" I called out, relief loosening the knot of tension in my chest.

They reached us, pulling Yang and me to our feet, and together, we half-stumbled, half-dragged ourselves toward the far exit. But just as we neared the doorway, a low, menacing beep echoed through the space. Calvin's face paled.

"Another bomb," he muttered, his grip tightening on my arm. "We need to move, now!"

With every ounce of strength, we pushed forward, desperation driving us as the beeping grew louder. The floor shook beneath us as we sprinted through the exit just in time. A thunderous blast ripped through the warehouse, the heat searing our backs as we were thrown forward by the shockwave. The sky was a fiery red behind us, debris raining down like deadly confetti.

I pulled myself up, my head spinning, blood trickling down my face. My heart thundered as I looked around, desperate. Reese steadied me, her gaze sharp with unspoken worry.

"Where are the girls?" I gasped, fear clawing at my chest. "Where are the girls?"

Calvin's jaw clenched, his eyes filled with an anger I hadn't seen before. "They were supposed to be here," he said, voice tight with frustration. "They were here. We saw them."

A sick feeling twisted in my gut. The girls we'd come for—the reason we'd risked everything—were gone. Taken. Moved. This was never about saving them. This had been a setup from the beginning, and we'd played right into their hands.

Reese turned to me, her face ashen but resolute. "Kitty...this was all a distraction. They wanted us here to take us out."

I stared at her, the realization crashing down on me. We'd walked into their trap, blindly, all of us. The whole operation had been bait, a twisted game orchestrated by the figure in the shadows—the one pulling the strings. I had thought he was just another criminal, a trafficker. But this? This was something darker, something far more dangerous than I'd ever imagined.

Yang coughed, his voice weak but steady. "They knew we'd come for them. They knew...you'd come for them, Kitty."

The weight of his words settled over me, a leaden reminder of what I'd risked for this case, of how far I'd been willing to go. My life, my team, all of it. And now, all I had to show for it was the devastation around me.

In the silence that followed, the faint sound of sirens cut through the air, growing louder with every second, but I barely registered it. Backup. Reinforcements. Too little, too late. The whole thing had gone to hell, crumbling in less than ten minutes. Ten minutes from the moment I'd set foot in that warehouse, and now, everything—everyone—was either burning, bleeding, or missing.

My fists clenched as the rage pulsed through me, raw and relentless. We'd been outmaneuvered, toyed with like pawns in some twisted game, and the bastard responsible had planned it down to the second. I felt every wound, every bruise, throbbing like an accusation: we'd come here to save lives, and instead, we'd barely escaped with our own.

The cold, bitter truth of it settled over me. We hadn't just failed to find those girls; we'd been played. Every instinct, every lead had led us straight into this trap, and now, someone out there was laughing, watching the chaos they'd created. The fire raged on behind me, flames devouring every trace of evidence, every last clue.

"Ten damn minutes," I muttered, jaw tight as I stared into the blaze.

I looked at the flames devouring the warehouse, the smoke billowing into the night sky, and felt a cold resolve harden within me. Whoever was behind this, they thought they could destroy us. They thought they could scare us into silence. They thought I'd turn away.

They were wrong.

The last remnants of the fire reflected in my eyes as I made a silent vow.

I stared at the flames consuming the wreckage of the warehouse, the smoke curling into the night sky like a twisted reminder of everything we'd lost. The heat pressed against my skin, but it was the cold resolve inside me that burned the hottest. Whoever was behind this—they thought they could break us. They thought they could scare us into submission, make us back down, make me turn away.

They were wrong.

The last flickers of the fire danced in my eyes, and in that fleeting moment, I swore silently to myself. This wouldn't end here. Not until every last one of them paid for what they'd done.

I felt the rough hands of medics as they loaded me and Yang into two separate ambulances, the sound of the sirens a distant, hollow echo in my ears. The pain was overwhelming, but nothing hurt more than the moment I heard them say, "We're losing him."

Yang. My friend. Gone.

The world around me spun out of focus, the air thick and suffocating. I couldn't even tell when I passed out—when the darkness finally claimed me—but I could feel it, pulling me under like an anchor.

And in that suffocating void, I saw nothing but red. It bled into everything, flooding my vision, drowning me.

I made another vow, one deeper than the first.

This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.