The Rescue at the Warehouse

Meanwhile, Luna and Mike had returned to Dihuan Residences, where Trimble stood waiting at the main gate.

The moment she got out of the car, Luna hurried over. Trimble rapid-fire gave them the whole sequence of events: "Ms. Lynne and Charlotte were ambushed in the underground parking garage. Two residents who hadn't gotten out of their car yet happened to see it."

"When the police took statements here, they said the kidnappers were four tall men in hats and masks. The intent was obvious—guns tucked in their waistbands. The moment they saw Lynne and Charlotte heading for the elevator, they rushed over, clamped a hand over their mouths, and dragged them away!"

"Both of them struggled for a few seconds, then blacked out!"

Trimble's account left Luna frantic. He added, "The police are already tracking the leads. And there's another team out there too—not, it seems, with the police..."

At that, Mike spoke up. "That's our people."

Trimble nodded, understanding. Piecing together everything from the past two days, he was slowly realizing that Miss Luna and the resident who had just moved in on the twenty-eighth floor might both be far from ordinary people...

"Mike, can we go to the scene?"

Luna clenched her fists and asked through gritted teeth, her expression utterly serious.

Mike pressed his lips together, considering her. "Madam, it could be dangerous." Luna shook her head, her voice remarkably steady. "That's fine. Do we have equipment?"

"I used to be an assistant instructor at a shooting range and a tactical training camp. I have experience," she added.

That startled Mike a little—and Trimble beside him no less so.

Luna had always held herself to exacting standards. After the divorce from Victor, she had taken her mother to Germany.

That first year, after Charlotte was born, she had drilled herself for every emergency she might face in the air—hijackings, kidnappers, terrorists, all of it.

She had enrolled herself in a specialized training course, then taken assistant-instructor posts at a shooting range and a tactical camp to build up experience.

She had never imagined that experience would be needed here, of all places...

Mike hesitated no longer. After saying goodbye to Trimble, the two of them walked to the rear of the car. He opened the trunk, bent down, and pulled two bulletproof vests and two pistols from a case inside.

The car pulled away from Dihuan Residences, heading straight for the location his people had been tracking. In the car, both of them were already wearing their vests, guns within arm's reach.

Past the city limits, they entered the outskirts, following the GPS. At the fifteen-minute mark, they spotted police cars with lights flashing, and several jeeps parked along the roadside.

Mike deliberately slowed. Ten meters ahead stood an abandoned warehouse; the car finally stopped beside the jeeps.

Just as Luna reached for the door, gunfire cracked out somewhere close—then shouting.

Mike's eyes were sharp. He caught a figure bolting from the warehouse door and yanked Luna down in the passenger seat.

"Madam—someone's coming out. Don't move. I'll handle it."

His voice dropped low. Then he slowly raised his head, peering ahead.

Two men in matching black uniforms were already chasing out of the warehouse. One look told Mike who they were—his own people.

The fleeing man had taken cover behind a jeep, gun still in hand. He yanked the door open, started the engine, and swung around to escape.

By now Luna had followed his gaze. Her eyes narrowed, cold sweat beading on her forehead. Through gritted teeth, she said quietly, "Mike. Ram him."

Mike froze for a beat, glancing at her. Fear was written plainly on her face—and yet her voice didn't tremble in the slightest.

Adrenaline surging, sweat dripping faster now, Luna saw that Mike hadn't moved and turned to him again. "He's right in front of us. We're in his blind spot—he can't see us."

That decided him. Mike nodded, sat up straight, and floored the accelerator, charging at the jeep.

Luna gripped the seatbelt with one hand, eyes locked ahead. The instant they hit, the jeep lurched a full meter forward. The fleeing man, caught completely off guard, cracked his head against the half-open side window—blood welling up at once.

Before the man's vision could even clear, Mike was out of the car, pistol raised, striding to the jeep. He pulled the door open and drove his elbow into the man's skull in one motion. The man went out cold.

Luna was out too, gun raised, advancing warily. The two uniformed men from the warehouse had spotted the commotion and were running over.

Inside the warehouse, the kidnappers who had been holding Charlotte hostage had already been shot dead on the spot. Charlotte was crying her eyes out, gathered in the arms of a policewoman, while Lynne beside her had gone white with shock, out of her mind with fear.

As they emerged from the warehouse, everyone on this side turned toward them at once.

The moment Luna saw Lynne walking out beside the officers, and Charlotte carried in someone's arms, her body took over, sprinting toward them—Mike and the two men close behind.

"Mom! Charlotte!" Luna cried, reaching them.

Hearing what she called them, the police understood at once her relation to the victims and handed Charlotte into her arms.

"Mommy!"

The moment Charlotte saw her, her sniffles erupted into full sobs—all the fear and hurt pouring out at once through her tears.

"...Mommy, the bad men took me and Grandma away. I was so scared—scared I'd never see you again!"

Hearing the little girl's crying, everyone around felt their hearts ache. Luna stroked her hair gently and kissed her forehead, her voice choked. "Mommy's right here. The bad men are gone. Don't be scared, sweetheart."

Lynne came up to them then. Luna could hold back no longer—at the sight of her mother's disheveled hair, tears spilled over. "Mom!"

Lynne gathered both her and Charlotte into her arms, leaning close to Luna's ear, voice trembling: "I'm sorry. I couldn't keep Charlotte safe."

"Mom, don't say that. None of this is your fault," Luna said at once.

"Officer—there's another kidnapper in our car. He's unconscious."

Mike reported quietly to the police. At that, the officer raised his hand—two officers immediately ran over, pulled open the car door, and dragged the kidnapper out.

"Ma'am, your mother and your younger daughter may need to come back to the station with us to give their statements."

Luna instinctively looked at Lynne. At her nod, Luna patted Charlotte's head and nodded to the officer. "All right."

By the time they came out of the police station, it was already two in the afternoon. Luna took Lynne and Charlotte to the hospital, with Mike standing guard at their side.

After Lynne and Charlotte were each examined and confirmed unharmed, the doctor called Luna alone into the office.

"Ms. Luna—your daughter was kidnapped?" the doctor asked directly.

Luna pressed her lips together and nodded. "Yes."

The doctor sighed. "She's still very young. Children that age don't have much resilience. To keep this from becoming a lasting trauma, she may need counseling."

"Counseling?"

"That's right. But if we doctors intervene directly, it could provoke a reaction—resistance. So my suggestion is that you and your family handle the reassurance yourselves."

"Concretely: stay close to her, be attentive, help her build more happy memories. Things like that."

...

When she came out of the office, Mike had just hung up a call with Keane. He reported quietly:

"Madam, he's awake. He wants you to come now..."