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Chapter 52 - Escape: part two (A lingering smile at death's door)

Davis approached another crate, pried it open, and whistled low.

Inside—more golden bricks, stacked like treasure from a forgotten empire.

He lifted two gently, eyes gleaming.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Guess our escape was worth it after all," he chuckled.

"Who knew our dear banker was clever enough to stash gold in an underwater vault?" Davis continued. "Sometimes I'm genuinely impressed by that guy's ingenuity."

Isaac scanned the room, eyes narrowing.

"Yeah… me too. But I've got a feeling this isn't all he was hiding. There's something else. Something bigger."

He turned to Davis.

"But right now, we need to get out of here. We've got to catch those goons before they vanish. And don't even think about pocketing that brick—it's evidence."

Davis groaned. "Oh come on, Isaac! No one's going to notice one missing brick. Look at this place—it's a gold mine! Literally. We're staring at our one-way ticket to unending wealth, and we're just going to leave it behind?"

Isaac stepped closer, voice firm.

"Yeah—and I'm not taking no for an answer. We still don't know what killed Blane, or how that burner phone disintegrated. What if this gold is laced with something? A chemical weapon? A tracking compound? We need to be careful."

He glanced around.

"As far as we know, this place is still secret. They don't know it exists. So once we're out, we come back. We investigate properly."

Davis sighed, shoulders slumping.

"Urrgh… fine. But I'm still taking one brick. For evidence. You know… just in case this place mysteriously disappears and we never get back."

Isaac gave him a look.

"Just don't start naming your future yacht after it."

Davis grinned. "Too late. Already called it Golden Escape."

Isaac didn't respond. He simply shook his head, sighed, and crossed to the far side of the room. There, stairs led up to a hatch door embedded in the ceiling.

He twisted the lock slowly, then cracked it open.

Darkness.

The room above was silent—eerily so.

Isaac climbed through, flashlight in hand. Davis followed close behind.

They swept their beams across the space.

Barrels stacked in one corner. Racks of wine bottles lined the walls, glinting in the torchlight.

"Wow… this just keeps getting better and better," Davis whispered, running his hand along the bottles.

Isaac snorted. "Yeah....but remember we are trying to escape and not enjoy ourselves. So don't you dare get carried away."

"Yes, Boss," Davis replied with a grin—then promptly popped open a bottle and took a swig.

"Mmmm....wow this is good. No wonder why it is for rich people."

Isaac stared at him, exasperated. "I hate you." He mumbled.

"And I love you. Because we make a great team," Davis replied, placing the bottle atop a barrel with a wink.

The silence thickened—like fog before a storm.

Isaac crouched near the wine cellar door, breath shallow, ears tuned to every creak above. Davis knelt beside him, fingers twitching as Isaac twisted the rusted latch.

He peered through the crack.

A narrow hallway bathed in moonlight. Still. Silent.

Isaac opened the door fully, scanned the hallway again, then signaled Davis to move.

They crept forward.

He then peered through the window in the hallway and saw that they were covered by a thick forest. The only room inside the little house was the wine cellar.

The two of them walked towards the door to exit the house.

They reached the exit.

Isaac picked the lock, cracked the door open, and listened.

Nothing.

He stepped outside, Davis close behind.

They turned back briefly—and saw that the small house was built inside a rock, with a very promiscuous design that nobody will ever guess that it was a house.

Then they walked.

Through the trees, the orange glow of the burning Blane mansion lit the sky like a funeral pyre.

Isaac and Davis exchanged a glance—wordless, but heavy. They were alive. They hadn't been consumed by the flames.

"Come on," Isaac said quietly.

They moved forward.

At the edge of the estate, they paused to catch their breath.

"So… what's the plan?" Davis asked.

"We get back to the car. It's parked far off, out of sight. I'm sure the fire didn't reach it. Then we drive out of here like hell."

Isaac chuckled, breath ragged.

"I can't wait to hear my beautiful Sweeches' voice. That's the calm I need after all this chaos."

"Likewise, Captain. Likewise. I need to see my hooligan too."

Davis grinned. "Let's get out of here."

"Yeah… let's go," Isaac said.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bang! Bang!

Davis shoved Isaac hard, sending him tumbling behind a tree just as bullets tore through the air.

"I found them! They're over here!" a goon shouted from the shadows.

Isaac glanced at Davis, crouched behind the trunk beside him. He mouthed silently, "They're still here. Get ready."

Davis nodded, sweat glistening on his brow. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a revolver, and dropped low—his body swallowed by the shadows beneath the bushes.

He crawled silently toward the shooter.

Isaac saw the movement and drew his own weapon. He waited, breath held, for the goon to step into the moonlight.

Bang!

A shot rang out—missed.

The goon spun, firing wildly toward Isaac's position.

Isaac ducked behind the tree.

Bang!

"Aaah!" the goon cried out—Davis had shot him in the leg from the ground, unseen.

The man collapsed, groaning.

Davis surged forward, slammed the butt of his gun into the goon's head, disarming him and knocking him unconscious.

"Let's go!" Isaac whisper-shouted.

They sprinted through the woods, branches clawing at their clothes, adrenaline driving them forward.

Bang! Bang!

More shots fired.

They dove into the underbrush, hidden by thick foliage.

Bang! Bang!

Davis returned fire, aiming left to confuse the shooter. Isaac followed up—his bullet striking the goon's shoulder, forcing him to drop the weapon.

The goon staggered, eyes wide—just in time to see Davis launch a flying kick into his chest.

Thud!

The man slammed into a tree and crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Isaac stepped from the shadows, gave Davis a nod of approval.

They ran.

Through the forest. Through the chaos. Toward the edge of the estate.

The jeep came into view.

They sprinted toward it—

Bang!

"AAAH!" Davis cried out, collapsing to the ground, clutching his shoulder.

Isaac dropped beside him, eyes wide.

Blood oozed from Davis's shoulder blade.

"No, no, no…" Isaac muttered, pressing his hand to the wound.

The forest didn't forgive.

"Damn it, Davis!" Isaac cursed, crouched beside him near the jeep, blood soaking through the makeshift bandage.

"Hold on. We're getting out of here," he said, voice tight with urgency.

He tore a strip from his shirt and tied it around Davis's wound, pressing hard to slow the bleeding.

Then—

A voice echoed through the trees.

"It's the end of the line, agents! Hand over what's mine, and maybe I'll let you walk out of here alive!"

A figure stepped from the shadows—black overcoat, black boots, thick gloves, and a face mask that swallowed all expression.

Isaac stood, fury burning in his eyes.

Three more figures emerged, surrounding them.

"There's nowhere to run," said the masked man—the one they'd called Boss. "Just give me the box, and we'll let you go."

Isaac narrowed his eyes. "What box? We don't have anything."

The goon chuckled darkly. "You really think I'll believe that?"

He turned away—then spun back and kicked Isaac hard in the chest.

Cough! Cough! Isaac staggered, clutching his ribs.

The goon grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head back.

"Listen to me, you WFAB dip shit—I'm not in the mood for games. Give me the box, or I'll end your pathetic life right here and take it myself!"

Isaac groaned. "I told you… I don't know what you're talking about!"

Thud!

The goon slammed Isaac's head against the jeep door.

Isaac reeled, vision swimming, pain pulsing through his skull.

"Well, too bad for you," the goon sneered, pulling out his gun and aiming it at Isaac's head. "Say goodbye, agent. I'll see you in hell."

"No!!!" Davis screamed.

Bang! Bang!

Isaac's ears rang. His vision blurred. A sharp throb pulsed in his chest and head. As his mind swallowed the chaos surrounding him.

"WFAB!...Hands up! ...You're all under arrest! Get on the ground—now!"

Sirens blared. Lights flashed.

Isaac felt hands on him. Voices shouting. Davis calling his name.

"Captain… Captain… don't worry. You're going to be alright. Get the paramedics here now!"

Through the haze, Isaac saw a white light.

And Patricia's beautiful face.

Smiling widely.

He smiled back—just slightly.

And tried to reach out to touch her.

But then—

Darkness.

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