Unexpected Rendezvous

Come and Rescue Me

*Alistair's POV*

London never slept, but at this hour—just past midnight—it felt more like a monster holding its breath. The city's low hum had turned sinister, streets painted in shadow and streetlamp gold. I sat in Alexander's glass conference room, his office looming quiet behind me, and the night outside echoing with the weight of everything I had sacrificed and everything I stood to lose.

The Scotland Yard officers were still inside, working through blueprints and surveillance feeds, trying to piece together a plan to retrieve Alex and Rowena. They had no idea I was about to leave.

I glanced at the phone in my hand. Bryan's message had come in minutes earlier.

"We've picked up movement. A burner phone pinged near the Lower Thames—unregistered, but it's the same area we had eyes on yesterday. Lucius is working on isolating the coordinates."

A beat.

"We hacked into a delivery van's dashcam. There was a figure—male, tall, limp on the right side. Timestamp: 9:42 PM. Location matches where Master Alexander's phone last pinged."

"And Rowena?" I'd asked, low and cold.

"No visual. But Lucius found something—blood traces at the warehouse door. Fresh. Recent."

I'd ended the call with one last order. "Find him. Don't stop."

Then I rose.

My coat was already in hand as I slipped out of the conference room and through the back exit. No one saw me leave—not the Yard, not Harry, not the detectives still combing through files. It didn't matter. Their methods weren't enough. Not for this.

The driver met me in the alley behind the building. I gave him a name and an address: Michael Donatello.

"Drive. Don't ask."

As we passed the quiet streets of London, I pulled out my burner phone. A quick coded message to my private security unit: Belgravia. Ready in 20. No mercy.

They would meet me there. I wanted Michael Donatello to see it was me who orchestrated this.

We arrived just before 2:00 AM. The gates were locked—standard protocol for men like Michael. I walked past them without hesitation. My security team had already arrived minutes earlier, under cover of night. The locks were bypassed. Cameras disabled. Windows shattered. Silence, but deadly.

One of my men, Fraser, stepped out from the shadows.

"He's inside. Third-floor lounge. Already softened up."

I nodded. "No visible bruises. Nothing that'll leave marks he can use later."

Fraser grinned. "Of course, sir."

The front door creaked open under my hand. The mansion, once a symbol of wealth and control, now reeked of sweat and fear. I walked up the marble steps without pause, footsteps echoing through the halls.

Michael Donatello was on the ground, blood dripping from his nose, his eyes wide and unfocused. My men stood around him, cold and impassive.

He looked up when I entered.

"Gallert Alistair Hammond," he rasped. "Have you lost your mind?"

I didn't reply.

I took a seat across from him. The silence between us stretched, thick and poisonous.

"My son," I began, each word deliberate, "was taken by yours. Alongside the woman he loves. You will tell me where he is."

Michael scoffed. "I don't know anything."

I signaled Fraser. He stepped forward and drove his fist into Michael's ribs. The older man gasped, curling forward.

"You're lying." I leaned closer, voice like ice. "Rick isn't smart enough to cover his tracks. He's arrogant. Just like you. You helped him, or you know where he is. Either way, you will speak. Or I'll make sure you never speak again."

Michael wheezed. "If I talk, Rick—he'll kill me."

"I'll do worse."

He looked at me, really looked, and saw the truth in my eyes. That I wasn't bluffing. That this wasn't a game.

"There's an old dock—Dock 14, Sinclair Yard. East end of the city. Condemned buildings. Rick paid off the foreman. No patrols. No CCTV."

I exhaled slowly. My heart, long trained to remain still under pressure, clenched for a brief moment.

"They're there now?"

He nodded, coughing blood. "He said... he said he'd be done by morning."

Done.

I stood. My fury barely concealed behind the calm mask I wore like armor.

"If you report this—if you go to the press or try to use the law against me—I will unleash a scandal so wide it'll devour your name. I have reach, Michael. Beyond the courts, beyond your lawyers. I have influence at Scotland Yard and the Police Force that eclipses anything you can imagine. Do not test me."

He didn't speak. Didn't dare.

I turned and left him crumpled on the floor. My men followed.
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Meanwhile, Bryan and Lucius were moving like shadows through the city. Bryan, sharp-eyed and quick on his feet, had taken to the back alleys, searching for signs of Rick's movements. He knew how to blend, how to read the language of the streets. Lucius, ever the tactician, stayed behind screens and networks, breaking firewalls, decrypting encrypted signals.

"Found another ping," Lucius said over the encrypted call. "Warehouse area. GPS shows a pattern. It's like they're circling. Almost like guarding something."

Bryan crouched by a rusted fence, peering through the gaps with night-vision binoculars. "I see it. Dock 14. There's movement inside."

"Thermal scan confirms. Three signatures. Two on the ground. One pacing."

Bryan's grip tightened. "That's Master Alex. And Ms. Hart"

Lucius's voice softened. "We'll get them. We always do."

They relayed the data back to me in real time. By 4:00 AM, the final confirmation came. Dock 14. Warehouse 12.

The storm above had finally broken. Rain fell hard as we reached the perimeter. The Thames shimmered with angry light as dawn threatened to bleed into night.

I stood beneath a rusting awning, surveying the shadowed warehouse across the lot.

"Bryan, east entrance. Lucius, watch the southern exit. No gunfire unless I say. We move only on my mark."

They nodded, pale and grim.

I pulled out my phone, one last task.

I dialed the number Harry had given me—the Yard's direct line.

"Gallert Alistair Hammond," I said when they picked up. "I have your location. Dock 14. Bring everything. Bring everyone. But do not engage until I say so."

A pause.

"What are you planning?" came the voice on the other end.

"Retribution," I said. "And rescue."

I hung up and turned toward the rusted door, eyes narrowing.

Hold on, my son.

We're coming.

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Enjoy chapter 23 dear readers! 2 more chapters to go and we will be coming to an end to this epic tale. Stay tuned! XOXO