In the dead of night, Morwenna crept forward, silent as a shadow.


    Her years of navigating rugged terrains had honed her stealth, blending her into the darkness and


    making her nearly invisible.


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    It wasn''t until she was almost upon him that the man, flicking thest embers from his cigarette,


    turned his head.


    With a swift strike of her steel pipe, the man merely grunted, too stunned to cry for help or see who


    had hit him, before copsing to the ground.


    Morwenna grabbed his cor, gently easing his body down to avoid any noise that might alert others


    inside the factory.


    She then crouched near the metal door, peering through the crack.


    What she saw then was a blow to her heart.


    There was Stuart, bound and restrained.


    The fantasy that perhaps there had been a mistake with his location, or that his phone had merely


    been lost, evaporated. It was undeniable now.


    Stuart sat tied to a chair, his white shirt stained with fresh blood, a shallow cut marking his neck.


    What a chilling sight!


    Beside him stood a man with an eyepatch, brandishing a knife, seemingly interrogating Stuart.


    Stuart remained silent, and the man sliced the knife across Stuart’s shoulder.


    Yet, Stuart was eerily calm, more akin to a sovereign on his throne than a captive.


    Forcing herself to stay calm, Morwenna clenched her fists tightly, making no sound as she quickly


    assessed the situation. Five men were guarding Stuart inside the abandoned factory.


    The level of security made it clear they were deeply wary of Stuart.


    Morwenna hitched her breathing. What should she do?


    Charging in recklessly against the captors wasn’t wise. But she couldn’t dy either. The man


    who’d gone to relieve himself would soon return, making her odds even worse. Moreover, from her


    observations, they checked for disturbances every twenty minutes. Only thirteen minutes remained


    until the next check.


    She made her decision swiftly.


    They were harming Stuart. She couldn’t wait any longer.


    She had already alerted the police and even notified Fletcher, but either party would need time to


    reach this remote location.


    Biting down on her resolve, Morwenna moved away from the door, heading towards the bathroom


    area.


    If she was going to be exposed, she''d confront them one by one, starting with the man outside.


    If she could rescue Stuart, she would try. If not, she would face capture alongside him and wait for


    the police.


    Once she made up her mind, Morwenna clutched her steel pipe, ready to spring into action like a


    cheetah.


    The man, humming a tune, ambled back leisurely, his guard lowered by theteness of the hour and


    the apparent security.


    Morwenna, crouched like a predator in the night, sprang forward.


    Though the man seemed rxed, his reflexes were sharper than Morwenna had anticipated. He


    dodged at thest moment, avoiding the strike.


    With a fierce re, Morwenna tackled him to the ground.


    Too close to effectively use the pipe, she raised her fist and mmed it into his temple.


    Her strike was forceful like a hammer blow.


    The man went still.


    Breathing out deeply, Morwenna confirmed he was out cold before turning swiftly and heading back


    to the factory.