As soon as Saul had disappeared with Alex, Cross had immediately gone to check on her fallen men.The acrid smell from the burst cylinders still hung in the air, thick and cloying, making her eyes water even through the mask she had hastily pulled over her face. She knelt beside the first of her men, her gloved hands checking for a pulse, her jaw tight with barely contained fury.He was alive. Barely.She moved to the next, then the next, her movements quick and efficient. The liquid that had spilled from the cylinders had done its damage, but it hadn't killed them. Thank God Her men were breathing, shallow and ragged, their faces pale and slick with sweat. But they were breathing all the same."Fuck," Cross muttered in relief before pulling out her radio. "Command, this is Detective Cross. I need immediate medical evac for multiple wounded. The gas from the cylinders…it's incapacitated several of my men. They're alive, but barely."The response came crackling through. "Copy that,

The lab had never felt smaller than it did at that moment.Magnus's mouth had snapped shut at Saul's fierce words, and his face was pale with remorse as he stared at his grieving friend. But then his jaw tightened again, that stubborn set that Saul had come to know so well."I'm not trying to hurt you, Saul," Magnus said, his voice softer now but no less intense. "I'm only trying to make you see. We're so close. We've been chasing this for years. Years, Saul. And now it's right here, in our hands, and you want to wait? For what? For permission? For some committee to tell us it's okay to change the world?"Saul opened his mouth to respond, to explain for the hundredth time that it wasn't about permission, it was about responsibility….It was about the weight of what they were carrying and the consequences this could bring upon the world! But before he could, the door burst open with a screech of protesting metal.Alexander leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest,

Saul's throat throbbed, tight and painful. Fuck, it hurt so bad.This grief that felt like it ate him alive every day by day.But Saul was a masochist that way, craving the pain, himself carving into his own heart until there was nothing left.Eyes watering , he reached into the box, his fingers brushing against a piece of folded paper. It was worn, the edges soft and frayed from being handled too many times.He unfolded it slowly, his hands trembling, and his eyes flooded with tears.It was a photograph. A toddler, maybe two years old, with glossy black curls and bright blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. He had two gaps in his front teeth, his smile wide and carefree, his cheeks round and rosy. He was wearing a little blue onesie, his arms outstretched, reaching for the camera.His son. His everything. His Jackie.The pain but like a sucker punch.The tears came hot and fast, streaming down his cheeks, dripping onto the photograph. He pressed the image to his chest, his sho

He shook his head, pushing the thought aside. He didn't have time to dwell on the morality of the situation. He had a job to do.The command center was buzzing with activity, the analysts and technicians working in tandem to keep the operation running smoothly. Marcus watched the main display, where the location of each team was tracked in real time. The blue dots represented the retrieval teams, the red dots represented the victims, and the yellow dots represented the casualties ok their side.The yellow dots were growing in number."Command, this is Team Charlie. We've secured the main corridor. Moving to the secondary lab.""Copy, Charlie. Proceed with caution."Marcus felt a headache beginning to form behind his eyes. He reached for his coffee mug, lips opening around the rim but no even a drop of his inky lifeblood could be found in it.“Ah…..shit,” he swore and set down the mug with a frustrated grunt."Someone get me more damn coffee!" he called out to one of the assistants lo

He turned to the analyst who was monitoring the tank room feed. "What are the readings on that tank? Is he alive?"The analyst checked his instruments, his fingers flying across the keyboard. "Vitals are weak, but present. He's alive, sir. Barely."Kim's hands dropped from her face. She turned to Marcus, her expression hardening, her jaw set."I'm going," she said, her voice flat and final.She began marching toward the door, her footsteps steady and determined.Marcus swore again, louder this time. "Damn it, Ms. Vance!"He intercepted her path, his body blocking the door. "You are not going anywhere. I'm the highest ranking officer in this room. I'm Major Marcus Webb, and I'm telling you that you will not pass."Kim stopped, her eyes meeting his. "I don't care who you are," she said, her voice cold. "I'm not letting you keep me here. My brother is in there, and I'm going to get him."Marcus held her gaze, his voice firm. "Ms. Vance, you are not equipped for this. You have no trainin