Chapter 7 - The Extraction
The heavy steel door of the sub-basement bunker didn't yield easily.
When William, Emma, and the security team reached the bottom of the damp stone stairs, the keypad was glowing red, locked down by Isabella’s override code.
"Get the breaching charges!" Vance shouted into his radio. "We have a reinforced steel frame!"
"Move out of the way!" William roared, grabbing a heavy steel crowbar from a maintenance rack near the wall.
He slammed the steel bar against the electronic lock panel with furious, terrifying strength. Sparks exploded into the freezing corridor as plastic and circuit boards shattered under his blows. He struck the lock once, twice, three times, his hands bleeding where the metal bit into his palms, until the solenoid mechanism groaned and snapped.
Vance stepped in, kicking the heavy steel door open with a thunderous bang.
The freezing air rushed out of the room, bringing with it the smell of cold concrete and damp clothes.
"Ethan!" William screamed, throwing the door wide and stumbling into the white-tiled room.
In the corner, curled up beneath his thin, dirty green pajamas, nine-year-old Ethan Sterling didn't move. His skin was pale blue, his eyes closed, his eyelashes frosted with faint crystals of moisture.
William fell to his knees on the concrete floor, pulling his small, freezing body into his arms, wrapping his heavy cashmere tuxedo jacket around his son.
"Ethan! Ethan, open your eyes! Daddy's here! Daddy's right here!" William sobbed, holding the boy’s head against his chest, weeping hysterically into his dark hair. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, baby... Daddy didn't know... I didn't know..."
Emma knelt beside them on the floor, pulling off her bright yellow rubber gloves and rubbing Ethan’s cold, lifeless hands between her own, trying to force warmth back into his fingers.
"His pulse is weak, Mr. Sterling!" Emma said, checking his neck. "We need to get him out of the cold right now! Call the paramedics to the courtyard!"
Ethan’s chest let out a small, trembling gasp.
His eyes fluttered open—dull, confused, and filled with deep, lingering pain. He looked up through the dim light, seeing his father’s tear-streaked face and Emma’s warm, familiar smile hovering above him.
"Daddy...?" Ethan whispered, his voice a faint, cracking thread of sound.
"I'm here, buddy," William sobbed, kissing his son’s freezing forehead again and again. "I'm here. You're safe. Nobody is ever going to hurt you again."
"Emma...?" the little boy whimpered, reaching out a small, weak hand toward her. "You... you found my soldier...?"
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Emma grabbed his hand, pressing it against her cheek, tears spilling down her face. "I found it, Ethan. I found you. You're going home now."
William lifted his son into his arms, standing up from the cold floor with a fierce, protective strength, holding Ethan tightly against his chest as he carried him up the stone stairs toward the light.
