Chapter 73


    #Chapter 73 – Rescue Mission


    Victor and his team of three move stealthily through the woods. Victor takes the lead, crouching and


    scanning the darkness, but all seems peaceful. The Betas creep quietly behind, rifles in their hands,


    the night-vision sights pressed to their eyes. They move swiftly but carefully, taking no chances.


    The team arrives at the Walsh property faster than Victor had expected. The teamys quietly in the


    grass at the edge of the woods, watching the predicted patrols move around the house’s perimeter,


    learning their patterns.


    “This is taking too long,” Victor’s lead Beta whispers to him, “we need to move faster.”


    “It takes as long as it takes,” Victor says, peering through a set of binocrs. “There,” he breathes,


    pointing to the back of the house. “They’ve gone into the house, a change of guards at eleven, just as I


    said.”


    John Walsh is an old man, Victor thinks, smirking. Ufortable with change, he’s using an outdated


    guarding system that Victor knows like the back of his hand, the kind of guard system that Victor’s


    father used in his home when Victor was growing up. It’s effective, of course, unless your opponent


    knows every detail of how it works, every c***k in its armor.


    Which, of course, Victor does. He didn’t build the best Beta force in the country from scratch for


    nothing.


    “Let’s move.” As soon as Walsh’s Betas disappear into the house, Victor and his own rise to a crouch


    and swiftly move across the yard. Unseen, they climb up the stairs of the terrace and press themselves


    up against the wall on either side of the back door.


    When the next shift of Walsh’s Betas emerge, Victor is ready for them. His own Betas grab the guards,


    chloroform-soaked rags ready. There’s a muffled fight, and then the guards fall limp at their feet.


    “In five minutes, their leader will see that they haven’t reported. The next step will be to send two more


    guards after them. When they emerge, you’ll do the same thing to them,” Victor whispers, peering into


    the house. “When they, too, fail to respond after five minutes, Walsh’s lead will raise the rm.”


    Victor’s Beta team nods, understanding. “That means we have ten minutes,” Victor says, “to get Evelyn


    and get off the property. If I’m not back in that time, you run without me, or you’ll be shot.”


    The team nods. They weren’t happy about this part of the n, with their leader in the most vulnerable


    position, but he forced them to agree. It’s a short timeline as well – perhaps too short – but they’re


    committed. With that, Victor crouches and moves away from his team, scanning the wall for a ce to


    climb.


    Victor and his team had spent hours, that afternoon, scanning the blueprints of Walsh’s home, trying to


    determine the most likely ce where Evelyn would be held. Victor had been well-prepared for this


    kind of event, having obtained ormissioned blueprints of the homes of every important Alpha in the


    country, as well as a handful of influential humans and Rogues.


    His reconnaissance Betas, like his assault team, were top notch. Today, he’s grateful for the work that


    he put into this kind of preparation, though sometimes it had felt like this level of preparation would


    never turn out to be of any use.


    Victor creeps along the wall, heading toward the side of the house, where the family’s personal


    bedrooms are more likely to be. He’s aiming, in particr, for a small suite with a view of theke,


    which Evelyn had mentioned being able to see from her room as a child. It would align with Walsh’s


    condescending view of his daughter, Victor thinks, to send her back to her childhood room, rather than


    a guest room elsewhere on the property.


    Peering up at the house, Victor sees the room’s bay window, which he had noted on the blueprints.


    Perfect. He unhooks a rope with a small grappling hook from its ce on his belt, spinning it in his


    hands for momentum. As he tosses it up to stick to its spot on the second story, Victor prays, silently,


    that his instincts are correct and that this is Evelyn’s room.


    The hook sticks and Victor tugs on it, making sure it’s secure. When it proves true, Victor begins to pull


    himself hand-over-hand up the rope, grateful that he’s kept in shape during these years of peace.


    As he gets closer to the window, Victor abandons the rope, working his fingers into the grooves of the


    sill to pull himself bodily upwards onto the house itself. His arms and shoulders trembling, Victor pulls


    himself further up so that his eye level is even with the window. There, inside, he can see a woman


    sitting at her vanity and staring at herself in the mirror.


    She’s dressed in a flowing white cotton nightgown, her long brown curls hanging over her shoulders.


    Victor can’t see her face, but with that hair, he knows it can only be Evelyn or Emma. Taking the risk,


    he taps on the ss.


    The woman gasps and spins, surprised by the noise. Victor’s breath leaves him in a woosh as he sees


    that his work and nning has paid off – it’s Evelyn.


    Still, his body continues to shake and he knows that he’s running out of time. He hoists himself up


    further so that she can see his face in the window. Evelyn starts again, her eyes focusing on him, and


    then she gasps, rushing forward. She presses her hands on the pane and looks at him with relief in her


    eyes. He can see her mouth make the shape of his name, but the ss prevents him from hearing.


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    Victor peels one finger from the window sill and points upwards, indicating that Evelyn should open the


    window. Gasping and hitting her head with her hand for making him hang there, Evelyn pushes the


    window upwards and reaches out to grab Victor by the back of the shirt, helping to haul him into the


    room. They both fall on the floor with a thump, at which Evelyn grimaces, worried about the noise.


    “Victor,” she hisses, ncing at the door in worry. “What are you doing here – I mean, I’m d to see


    you – but –“


    “Your dad doesn’t even put locks on your windows?” Victor asks, groaning as he rolls his shoulders,


    which still ache.


    “He doesn’t need to,” she says, shaking her head. “He’smanded me to stay – I can’t go


    anywhere.”


    Victor nods, realizing, of course, that Walsh would abuse his Alpha power in this way.


    “Victor, you shouldn’t havee,” she says as he moves to a crouch on her floor. Evelyn puts her


    hands on either side of his face, her eyes full of concern. “I can’t leave, and he’s going to kill you – “


    “We have to try, Evelyn,” Victor says, staring into her eyes, determined. “I can’t leave you here. You


    have toe home.”


    “That’s all I want,” she says, shaking her head, desperate, but still seeing no point. “But he’s not going


    to –“


    Suddenly, an rm res out in the house. “s**t,” Victor says, through clenched teeth. “We were


    supposed to have more time than that.” Victor slides to the window and is d to see, faintly, three


    dark figures sprinting to the woods. He watches to ensure that they make it to the tree line and then


    moves back to Evelyn.


    “Come on,” he says, helping her to her feet. “It’s time to go.”