2025-03-11 17:11:47
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The shadow in the hospital Into the Lion’s Den
The sun had barely clawed its way above the horizon when Walker and Ramirez began the final preparations. The safe house, now empty without Elizabeth's presence, felt like a shell—a place of rest turned into a battlefield staging ground. Weapons lay meticulously arranged on the worn coffee table, a silent promise to whatever danger lay ahead.Ramirez adjusted the strap on his tactical vest, his movements quick and precise. “Elizabeth’s on her way to the safe house. Jett confirmed they passed the last checkpoint without a hitch.”Walker nodded, slipping a knife into his boot. “Good. Now we focus.”The mission ahead was simple in theory—get in, get Luc’s brother, get out. But nothing about their world was ever simple. Marcoux’s men were no ordinary thugs; they were professionals, trained to sniff out weakness and crush it without mercy.“Do you have eyes on the target?” Walker asked.Ramirez tapped his phone, pulling up a grainy live feed from one of Jett’s drones. “They’ve got him in a
The shadow in the hospital The Bait
Elizabeth moved through the bustling open-air market, the wicker basket on her arm brimming with fresh bread and vibrant vegetables. The sun filtered through the canopy of leaves, dappling the cobblestone street with patches of light and shadow. It should have felt safe, comforting even—surrounded by the hum of life, the mingling scents of rosemary, thyme, and freshly baked goods. But every time she glanced over her shoulder, all she saw were ghosts.A man stood by a flower stall, his posture too rigid, his eyes lingering on her just a moment too long. She turned away, the calm facade on her face betraying nothing, but beneath the surface, her heartbeat drummed a rapid rhythm. She could feel the weight of his stare even as she slipped into a narrow alley behind the market. Her fingers tightened around the phone in her pocket.“Walker, someone’s watching me.” Her voice was a whisper against the crisp Parisian air.“Where are you?” His tone was steady, but she could hear the steel benea
The shadow in the hospital The Bait 2
The plan was deceptively simple: lay the trap, wait, and see who took the bait. But nothing about the situation felt simple. Walker's fingers drummed against his rifle, his body coiled tight in the shadows of the derelict railway station.The abandoned station stood on the town's edge, where civilization faded into rust and weeds. The glass ceiling above was shattered, letting in slices of pale, dying light. Vines tangled around iron beams, nature slowly reclaiming what humanity had left behind. It was a perfect stage for a confrontation—isolated, eerie, and full of hidden corners.Elizabeth stood in the middle of the cracked platform. Her coat was buttoned up to her chin, but the cold wind still found ways to whip through. She looked vulnerable, small. The image of a lost, lonely woman—exactly what they wanted their stalkers to see.Walker’s voice crackled softly in her earpiece. "Stay calm. They’re close."She didn't respond, only adjusted her stance. Her eyes darted to the shadows
The shadow in the hospital The Long Flight Home
Ramirez downed the last of his whiskey, the burn settling in his chest like a reminder—this was his last night in Paris. The bar, Le Corbeau Noir, was the kind of place that didn’t ask questions. Dimly lit, filled with the scent of spilled alcohol, cigarette smoke, and old regrets. A place where men like him and Walker could drink in peace, without the weight of the world pressing down on them for a few short hours.Across the booth, Walker smirked, tapping his beer bottle against the edge of the table. “So, you’re really leaving?”Ramirez exhaled, stretching his arms over the back of the worn leather seat. “Yeah, man. I did my part. Helped you save Luc’s brother. I think I’ve earned some peace.”Walker scoffed. “Peace? In New York?”Ramirez smirked, tipping his empty glass toward him. “I got a family waiting for me.”Walker didn’t respond immediately, just took another slow sip of his beer. When he finally spoke, his voice carried something distant, something unresolved. “I had
The shadow in the hospital A Night to Remember
Walker’s boots hit the pavement in uneven strides, the cold Paris night wrapping around him like a thick fog. The whiskey still lingered in his system—not enough to make him lose control, but just enough to make the city lights blur at the edges. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked, exhaling deeply. Ramirez had left for the airport. Their last drink together had been more than just whiskey—it was a farewell to a brother in arms, a chapter closing.But as he neared his street, a familiar warmth replaced the lingering alcohol in his veins. Home.The small apartment wasn’t much, but it was theirs. The dim glow of the dining room light spilled through the curtains, and he knew what it meant—Elizabeth was still up, waiting for him. Damn.Walker paused outside the door, rubbing his face before stepping in. The soft scent of lavender and home-cooked food wrapped around him immediately.Elizabeth turned from the dining table, her round belly pressing against the edge as she smil
The shadow in the hospital A Home in Ruins
Ramirez stepped off the plane at John F. Kennedy International Airport, the cold New York air hitting him the moment he exited the terminal. He exhaled deeply, rubbing his eyes as exhaustion settled in his bones. The long-haul flight from Paris had been draining, but nothing compared to the anticipation of finally seeing his wife and daughter again.He pulled out his phone and dialed Cindy’s number. It rang once. Twice. Then the line went dead.Frowning, he tried again. This time, a robotic voice cut through the silence.The number you are trying to reach is currently switched off.Ramirez lowered the phone, staring at the screen in confusion. That was odd. Cindy always answered his calls—especially when she knew he was arriving today. The last time they spoke, just before he boarded his flight, she had promised to be at the airport to pick him up. That was over eight hours ago.Had she forgotten? Unlikely.Was she planning some kind of surprise for him? Maybe.Whatever it was, he was
The shadow in the hospital The Long Awaited Call
Walker wiped his damp hands on a kitchen towel and glanced toward the dining area, where Elizabeth sat, slowly chewing her meal. Her swollen belly stretched the fabric of her loose nightgown, and every now and then, she winced, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.She was eight months pregnant, and her body bore the full weight of it. Her hands constantly cradled her lower back, and every trip to the bathroom required her steadying herself against walls and furniture.Walker had never imagined himself doing household chores—cooking, washing dishes, rubbing swollen feet—but now, he did them without hesitation.He loved her.And in a few weeks, their child would be here.He tossed the towel aside, reached for his phone, and dialed Ramirez’s number. One ring. Two. Three.No answer.He frowned, redialed. Still nothing.Walker wasn’t worried. Not yet.He walked over to Elizabeth, still holding his phone, and sighed.“Ramirez isn’t picking up.”Elizabeth looked up, raising a brow. “Did you
The shadow in the hospital At The Nightclub
Jett leaned against the bar, a cigarette dangling between his fingers as he exhaled a slow stream of smoke into the neon-lit air. The club was alive—throbbing with heavy bass, flashing lights, and the scent of alcohol, sweat, and lust. Half-naked girls spun on poles, their bodies gleaming under the purple and red strobes, while others prowled the floor, their eyes scanning for the next man to drain.Men lounged in booths, cigars in their mouths, whiskey in their hands, and money slipping effortlessly between their fingers. A thick cloud of smoke hung in the air as laughter and shouts blended with the music. The bartender slid another glass of whiskey across the counter, and Jett took it without looking, lifting it to his lips as he watched the chaos unfold.Tonight, he wasn’t a hacker. He wasn’t a watch-dog, always calculating his next move. Tonight, he was just a man looking for pleasure.Then the doors swung open.A group of men dressed entirely in white stepped into the club. Their
Latest Chapter
PENTHOUSE–FORTY-THIRD Floor
Penthouse, 2:17 A.M.Outside, Manhattan pulsed—wet streets, blinking signs, garbage trucks grinding somewhere far below. Inside, the hallway outside the main chamber felt like a mausoleum—quiet, cold, and waiting.Riven leaned against the wall, fidgeting with a lighter he didn’t know how to use. “You think he ever sleeps?”Dax didn’t look up from his phone. “The boss?”“No, Santa Claus.”Dax’s mouth twitched—almost a smile. “If you gotta ask, you’re not ready to meet him.”Riven glanced at the thick steel double doors ahead. “Think he’ll like me?”Dax finally looked over. “No.”Riven paused. “What if I brought donuts?”Now Dax did smile—barely. “He doesn’t eat sugar. Says it fogs the kill switch.”“What’s the kill switch?”Dax tapped his chest. “The moment you hesitate.”Before Riven could reply, the doors clicked open on their own. No creak. Just smooth, mechanical surrender.“Guess that’s our cue,” Dax said, already walking.Inside the Domain.It felt more like a fortress than a hom
The Day Of Departure
Paris, 5:26 a.m. – The Day of DepartureA gray hush hung over the apartment like a veil. Outside the window, the streets of Montparnasse were slick with rain, streetlamps still glowing, casting long yellow reflections across the pavement. Inside, the kitchen smelled of dark roast and quiet dread.Elizabeth stood barefoot by the stovetop, wrapped in one of Walker’s old cotton shirts—navy blue, frayed at the cuffs. She cradled a white mug in both hands, staring blankly at the French press slowly dripping behind her. The overhead light hummed, a faint contrast to the rhythmic patter of drizzle tapping the windowpanes.Walker entered the kitchen already dressed—charcoal jeans, black boots, and a fitted dark jacket zipped halfway. His duffel bag was slung over his right shoulder; a small black carry-on rolled behind him.“You’re early,” she said without turning.“I couldn’t sleep.”She reached for a second mug and poured. “You want one for the road?”He nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”They sipped
You will stay here tonight
A dusty taxi creaked to a halt by the side of an empty stretch of road. Jett stepped out first—broad shoulders wrapped in a black leather coat, hood drawn, his jaw clenched beneath a well-groomed beard. His mirrored sunglasses caught the glow of the streetlight, making him unreadable.Without a word, he circled to the other door, yanked it open, and dragged Anita out. She stumbled. Her face was veiled beneath a grey scarf, pulled tight. Her wrists were tense under his grip.The taxi disappeared into the fog. Another whizzed past, not even slowing when the driver caught a glimpse of the strange duo. Jett knew better than to head home. Surveillance was real. Patterns get you caught. And tonight, he wasn't just a hacker — he was judge, jury, maybe more.He hissed into Anita’s ear, the barrel of a pistol poking under her rib cage. “One sound, and I turn your insides into fog. Got it?”She nodded slowly, eyes wet, throat stiff.When a second cab finally pulled over, Jett shoved her inside
Walker's Next Move
Paris, 2:47 a.m. The yellow nightlight near the crib cast a soft oval glow across the cream-colored walls. Outside, a light drizzle tapped the glass window rhythmically. But Walker lay wide awake, his back pressed flat against their queen-sized bed, arms folded behind his head. His eyes had been locked on the ceiling for hours. He didn’t move until he heard the soft snore from Elizabeth—steady, shallow. Then, slowly, carefully, he turned and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “Lizzy…” His voice barely escaped his lips. She groaned softly and stirred under the weight of the duvet, one leg peeking out. “Mm?” “I need to talk to you.” She rolled to face him, her long hair spilling onto the pillow. Her voice cracked with sleep. “Now?” “I can’t keep it in anymore.” Elizabeth sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes with both hands. “Alright. Talk.” Walker inhaled sharply. “I think it’s time we move back to the US.” Elizabeth blinked at him, confused. “What?” “I’m serious.” Sh
Anita the Stripper
The stripper hit the floor hard, stunned. Her mouth opened to scream—but Jett was faster. He clamped his hand over her lips and shoved her against the wall.“Where is she?” he growled. “The one with the yellow short hair. Lip piercing. Tribal mark. The one who sold me out.”She gasped, struggling under his grip. “I—I don’t know who you mean—”Wrong answer.Jett’s grip tightened around her throat. Her eyes bulged, bloodshot and watering. Her heels scraped against the floor. He leaned in, voice colder than steel.“When you get to hell, tell them I send my regards.”He released her. She collapsed, coughing, trying to breathe—but Jett wasn’t done.He drew the pistol, cold and black, and pressed the barrel to her lips. Slowly. Deliberately.“Talk. Or I blow your teeth through the back of your skull.”Her eyes filled with panic. She coughed, choked, shook her head. “I—I can’t…”He shoved the barrel deeper.“You will.”Finally, she broke.“Anita,” she wheezed. “Her name is Anita.”“Where?”“
Jett’s next move
Jett could finally rest now. Ramirez—the man he was assigned to watch like a hound on a scent—was locked up. Prison steel swallowed his old target. Jett wasn’t bitter anymore. Not exactly. If he hadn’t heard about how Ramirez’s wife and kid were kidnapped, he would’ve thought Ramirez had sold him out. But Jett knew betrayal. This wasn’t it.He had a new life now. One with the possibility of something like peace. Marriage? Maybe. But he knew how his world worked. People he crossed through his dark trade—hacking, digital theft, surveillance—if they couldn’t reach him, they'd go after the ones he loved. Just like Ramirez.That’s why he never married.That’s why tonight he carried a pistol in his back pocket and a black ski mask folded tight inside his duffel. It was 8 p.m. The club would be starting to heat up. If he waited too late, she’d be gone—dancing on another pole, working another poor bastard.She. The stripper who sold him out.Tonight, she dies.Jett covered the hole behind him
Lizzy, Pasta & The Snake-Bitten Husband
Elizabeth stood frozen in the middle of the hallway, one eye on her baby monitor and another on her phone screen. Her thumb hovered over the call button. There was only one person she could call right now. Someone who always had an annoying answer but always showed up when it mattered—Svet.She dialed.It rang once.Twice.Nothing.“What?!” she gasped out loud, glaring at her phone like it just cheated in Monopoly. “Svet NEVER ignores my calls. That man picks faster than Google Search!”She stomped to her room, still in her house robe—a faded pink monstrosity with “Best Wife Ever” peeling off the front. Her hair was in a bun so messy it looked like a raccoon had made a nest and abandoned it mid-morning. Inside the room, little Seth, her twelve-month-old heartthrob, was babbling to himself, a plush toy of a yellow duck clutched in one chubby hand.He was mumbling gibberish with a sense of purpose, like he was explaining blockchain to the duck.“Ba ba goo…noo noo waba…”Elizabeth stared
You’re using criminals to catch cops now?
Ramirez crept forward on aching elbows, the metal biting into his skin with every inch he advanced. The stale air of the ventilation shaft was thick with grime and rust, the silence broken only by the faint groans of the prison’s ancient structure. His heart pounded in his ears as he reached a long shaft stretching over the highest-security wing—the place they called The Pit.This has to be it, he thought. Javier Montoya’s cage.But as he crawled closer, his gut twisted.The shaft above this particular section wasn't like the others. It was reinforced with iron bars, thick and welded to an inner frame—an iron lattice designed to block even the smallest object from falling through. Someone had gone to great lengths to seal this section off from above. Not because of an escape risk—but because of rescue attempts. They had sealed it like a vault.They knew his men might try this. They thought of everything.Ramirez pressed his face to the narrowest gap in the ironwork. He couldn’t see mu
Memory Loss
Tiny flickers of light danced before his eyes. His vision blurred, unfocused. He groanved, trying to move, but his body felt weighted, sluggish. Panic clawed at his chest as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings."Where... where am I?" His voice cracked, dry as desert air.The sound of hurried footsteps. A soft gasp. Then, warmth—a gentle hand brushing against his cheek. "Walker! Oh my God, you're awake!" A familiar voice. Comforting. Shaky with emotion.He tried to lift his head, but the effort was exhausting. Squinting through the haze, he could barely make out the silhouette of a woman. His heart told him it was Elizabeth, but his mind refused to connect the dots."I’m here," she whispered, her fingers tracing his face as though confirming he was real. "It’s me, Elizabeth."Walker’s breath came out in short puffs. "What happened to me? Why can’t I see properly?" He reached up, his fingers brushing against bandages wrapped tightly around his hands and arms.Elizabeth sque
