"They found her," one of them said, confusion heavy in his tone.
"Found who?" another replied.
"The missing female cop. From what I'm hearing… yeah. Apparently she was found on the street by civilians. She's in the hospital now."
John went still.
Elara.
So she had been released, his mind ran through possibilities A warning. A bargain. A calculated gesture. Was it because of what he had done over the past two nights? The hideouts erased, the message sent without words. Or was this the Architect showing goodwill, an attempt to steer him, to redirect his blade?
John didn't like unanswered variables and just like that, the goal for the night changed.
If Elara was truly free, he needed to see her with his own eyes. Confirm it, Understand how she came to be free
A few hours earlier, Elara found herself drugged and blindfolded in the back of a moving vehicle.
She was only half-aware,conscious enough to feel the hum of the road beneath her, the sway of turns, the muffled sounds of the city bleeding through the walls. No one spoke to her. No threats. No explanations.
Then the vehicle stopped.
Hands guided her out, steady but impersonal. The blindfold was removed, and before she could even process her surroundings, a phone was pressed into her palm.
The vehicle pulled away immediately, tires screeching as it vanished into the street.
Elara stood frozen.
She was in the middle of a large public gathering, people everywhere. A plaza, maybe a busy street corner. Faces turned toward her almost instantly, confusion shifting into concern when they noticed her state.
"Are you okay?"
"Miss, do you need help?"
"Call the police."
The noise swelled around her. Someone took the phone from her shaking hand. Calls were made. Another person draped a jacket over her shoulders. Out of sheer goodwill, a stranger offered to drive her to the hospital, unwilling to wait.
By the time she arrived, the shock had already begun to wear off.
Medical tests confirmed it quickly, nothing was wrong. No injuries. No trauma beyond residual effects of the drugs in her system. Whoever had taken her had made sure of that.
For the past week, she hadn't been mistreated. Not once.
The gang leader had visited her every day, always accompanied by a strange masked man who never spoke. Each visit followed the same pattern, apologies, almost rehearsed. Promises of compensation. Of protection. Of a "better life" once everything was over.
It felt wrong. Excessively polite. Desperate. She never understood what was happening but she understood fear when she saw it.
The gang leader was terrified not of the police she worked for. His was was of something else, of someone else.
Lying in the hospital bed now, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts drifted back to a single name.
Ghost.
Was this because of him?
Had his actions forced their hand? Was he looking for her? Had he found them and this was the only way they knew how to make it stop?
The idea lodged itself deep in her chest, strange and electric.
She wanted to see him. More than that, she was certain he would want to see her too.
After all, she had news to share and for the first time since her disappearance, Elara smiled.
She might have found the one Ghost was looking for, but before that, she had to escape. At least that wa sher thought wheen she got the information.
But her escape came quickly or rather, it was handed to her.
There was a price, of course.
She was told, calmly, almost politely that she would be released on one condition: she had to pass along a message. Ghost needed to know the gang's current stance.
They no longer wanted him as an enemy.
They wanted cooperation.
That was all.
No threats followed. No leverage was mentioned. Just a quiet certainty, as if they believed the message and herself alone was enough.
Not long after, she was drugged and blindfolded.
Now, hours later, as awareness fully returned to her, Elara found herself in a hospital room washed in pale light and antiseptic silence.
The steady beep of a monitor grounded her.
She turned her head and froze. Chief Captain Thorne sat slumped in a chair beside her bed, head tilted back, mouth slightly open.
Snoring.
Softly.
"…Captain," she called, her voice weak but amused.
No response.
She tried again. Nothing.
With a faint huff of effort, she pushed herself upright, grabbed the pillow behind her, and tossed it at him.
The pillow struck Thorne square in the chest.
He startled awake, flailing just enough to tip his chair backward. The legs scraped loudly against the floor as he barely caught himself, wide-eyed and disoriented.
"Elara?!"
He looked up.
She was smiling.
For a moment, Thorne just stared at her, disbelief written all over his face. Then relief hit him all at once, heavy and unfiltered.
"You're awake," he said hoarsely.
"Oh shit… you're awake, Elara!" Thorne exclaimed, rushing forward. "Wait, wait, let me inform the nurses"
"I'm fine, Captain," Elara said, cutting him off gently. "I have something you might want to hear."
Thorne froze mid-step, concern flickering across his face.
"You sure?" he asked cautiously.
"I'm sure," she said, her tone steady and healthy, the small rise in her cheeks betraying how much better she felt.
Thorne exhaled and nodded. "Go ahead then."
"First," she began, "I never escaped on my own."
Thorne nodded knowingly. "We already know that. The person who drove you here informed us of everything."
Elara leaned back slightly, gathering her thoughts. "I see. Then I'll tell you the conditions for my release."
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "The gang leader, the Architect released me to act as a middleman between him and Ghost. Ghost's actions have been causing him serious losses, and he wants to put an end to it. If possible… he wants to come to an agreement with Ghost."
Thorne's eyes narrowed. "And have you spoken to Ghost yet?"
Elara shook her head.
"We need to keep it that way," Thorne said firmly. "This has gone beyond a simple police matter. The government is involved now. They won't like the idea of Ghost meeting or possibly cooperating with the gang leader."
"I'll inform them of this," Thorne continued, pulling out his phone. "Take your time to rest."
But Elara held up a hand, stopping him.
"I would like to go home, Captain," she said, her voice quiet but resolute. "I haven't been there in weeks. Nothing would bring me greater comfort than my own bed… my own home."
Thorne paused mid-motion, looking at her.
"You hear what I said, right?" he asked, his tone sharpening. "The government is involved in this. Your contact with Ghost should be limited, if possible, non-existent from now on."
Elara's jaw tightened, and her eyes flickered with irritation. "I know. And I never want anything to do with him again, either. Look at what it's brought me so far."
Thorne said nothing, letting her words hang in the air. His gaze stayed on her, weighing, silent but heavy with caution.
"No problem," he finally said. "But I hope you won't mind if… we has your home surrounded. For your own safety, of course."
Elara opened her mouth to protest, but the look on Thorne's face told her there was no room for argument. She sighed and nodded.
Satisfied with her compliance, Thorne took one last measured look at her. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her alone with the quiet hum of the hospital room.
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