The bracelet did not necessarily mean she was alive, but it offered hope. I counted on Marcus keeping her, Jade, and whatever poor souls he stole locked away for constant use, so the jewellery appearing in the middle of a corridor struck me as odd. It suggested she may have been moved along with the other resources, seemingly in a hurry. Apparently, Marcus received whispers of Tyler and I's arrival, but not fast enough to stage a complete evacuation of the property. Every resource was sucked dry by the doctor – to leave many behind exposed panic.

          The conversations I overheard on my manoeuvring through the corridors confirmed this theory. The men and women packing boxes worked for him – some possessing weapons with others unarmed – but I was unsure what their specific jobs entailed. Were they mindless workers, or did they hold people down while the doctor's conducted torture? I could not decide which option was preferable considering the ends two of them met at my own hands.

          As I dug deeper into the lab, more and more corridors broke off into smaller caves cornered off by fogged plastic curtains. I checked the junction for any other workers and crept over to investigate.

          Devastation. Signs of complete devastation littered the limestone walls and metal panels spread over the floor.

          An aluminium table stayed behind; the copper splatters told me of its use. I reached for my throat, sour antiseptic burning my windpipe.

          Restraints, knives, broken glass... All of it turned my blood to ice, making the veins in my neck pulsate, heart drumming wildly.

          This was not a nightmare, nor a memory, but reality. For Gabby and Jade, this had been their daily routine... for a year.

          I swallowed. If Derek saw what his sister was going through... I didn't want to imagine the terror.

          With a shudder, I moved on. There was nothing left to look at.

***

The lab was more crowded than I had anticipated.

          Sienna's funding appeared to stretch through more than just the doctors' research. I thought, since we stole 10 million euros back in Cyprus, Marcus's resources would have become sparse, but his benefactor had grown cautious. Between our last encounter, there had to have been at least a few more bulk payments to afford the extensive security – not officially registered, but underground gangs looking for hefty pay checks and zero restrictions rather than honest work.

           I turned into a shadowed tunnel, and jumped as a shot reverberated through the walls.

          I looked down – I was unharmed.

          "Bloody hell, Barnes! Do you want to alert every bugger in this damned facility?" Scotty?
"Stop shouting otherwise you'll do that yourself." I breathed a sigh of relief at the second voice.
"You've already done it for me!"

          I followed the voices, debating whether to hug or throttle them.

          They argued before the body of a worker, a gun clutched in his own limp hand.

          "He jumped out on me. What was I supposed to do?" Derek snapped.
"Not shoot him."
"I could have died."
"I fail to see the—Amber!"

          Their jaws dropped as I shook my head from the glacial archway.
"I'm gone a couple of hours and you threaten to kill each other already?"

          Before either could answer, a sharp-eyed Derek had enveloped me in a hug, lifting my feet off the ground. I ignored Scotty's scowl as I leaned into the soft wool of his scarf, my cold cheek brushing his constantly-warm skin. His heart was beating fast, the muscles in his arm shaking against me.

          "We set off the second we heard the rope snap," he said. I smiled. I expected a rescue team, but not to see Derek before returning to London. He rested his gloved hands on my face, taking it all in, relief glowing from his own. "Others feared the worst, but we didn't believe you were—" He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. You're here. You're alive and— you're hurt."
I wiped my temple, not noticing the trickle of blood. "It's nothing. Not even concussed."
"We don't measure health by not having concussions," Scotty snickered.

          Then I remembered: the bracelet. Watching Scotty for a reaction, I pulled it from my pocket, mindful of the delicate chain.

          I opened up my palm. "I found this in one of the corridors. It's—"
"Gabby's," he said.
"She was here?" said Derek. "Did you find any sign of Jade as well?"
I pursed my lips in sympathy. "I'm sorry."
He sighed. "It... it's not saying anything for definite. She could still be okay."
"She could be." I nodded. Marcus would not kill her for the sake of it.

          Scotty reached for the bracelet, the rose tint lighting his hazel irises in pink. "Can I—"
"Go for it."

          Shaking, gloved fingers coiled around the chain and reeled it into his grasp.
"We'll find them," he said. "Both of them."
"There could be something else further in." I looked between the two of them. "Are you coming to look?"
Derek choked on a laugh. "I love how it's not 'should we look?' but 'are you coming with me?'"
"I don't need an escort." I shrugged with a teasing smile.
"Someone has to stop you from cliff-diving," Scotty replied.
"Cliff-diving?"
"Yes. How reckless of you."

          I groaned. It was impossible to steal even a shred of sympathy from Scotty, but he was always the first to complain about his own problems. Typical.

          We set off, hushing our voices so not to attract any unwanted attention.

          "How did you even get in here?" I asked.
"Same way you did," Derek replied with a wink. "Just with less theatrics."
"Theatrics?" I echoed. "What happened to those tears in your eyes when you thought I died?"
Scotty snorted. Derek shot him a glare. "I was just... I had to show you I cared. To comfort you."
I frowned. "To comfort me?"
He cleared his throat. "We're moving on, right? Great. Let's go."

          He strode off down the corridor. I leaned in close to Scotty and whispered, "Was he upset?"
"A bit teary in the helicopter."
"I knew it."
"But he was furious with Hops. Still is, I think."
I studied him from behind. His back and jaw still tensed. "I can tell."
"As much as I'd like to strangle the lad, I think you should hold him back. Can't have him kicked out the agency after the long wait to get back in the field."
"Was he approved for the mission?"
Scotty bit his lip.
"Scotty."
"Rodriguez's words were 'don't sue me' so take from that what you will."

          Derek no longer limped, but he was slower than he once was before the injury. He had kept up light training for the past year, utilising myself and Davis, but was hesitant in joining me on morning runs. The painkillers helped, he said, but the injuries he acquired were significant, and every day I was reminded of how lucky I was to wake up with him next to me for more reasons than I could count.

          We found another room to comb through, and Derek held open the plastic curtain for Scotty and I to enter. It was smaller than the others, and had been virtually untouched by those who packed the equipment up. In one corner sat a computer atop a desk, while the other held a kitchen area with cupboards and shelves.

          Scotty headed for the right, while Derek followed me left. He checked the drawers beneath the desk while I searched the top.

          No dust collected on the keyboard, nor the wood. The user had been sat at it recently, the office chair lowered for a tall individual.

          I reached for the computer and bumped something with my elbow, knocking over what I realised to be a photo frame. I turned it over and almost dropped it.

          "You alright?" Derek asked.
"Yes," I croaked. I hid my cough behind a laugh. "Can't pick anything up with these gloves."

          He debated a reply before turning back to the drawers. When I knew neither he nor Scotty were looking, I unclipped the photograph from the frame and slipped it into my pocket.

          "This was Marcus's office," I said.
"How'd you know?" Derek asked.
"I just know."
"It's strange," Scotty said. He rummaged through the drawers. "Pasta, flour, bloody ginger biscuits. Why is it a shock the man actually eats?"

          I shrugged as Scotty stuck his head in the cupboard then drawled out a groan.
"He has terrible taste in mugs." He stretched his hand into the cupboard and pulled one out: muted green with a white double helix down the middle. "I mean, look at this. Trash! Marcus Knight's just a nerd with a superiority complex."
"And a dash of sociopathic tendencies," I added, opening the top drawer of the desk: completely empty.
"I can't believe I haven't met the man yet," Derek wondered. "I almost feel left out."
"Trust me: you don't want to."
Scotty cooed. "Bless you, Barnes. You want to meet her dad!"
"Imagine that dinner," he replied. "Us lot, Marcus, Kane. Maybe spice it up with Alistair."
I shuddered. "That's a thought."

          I switched on the computer linked to another portable generator shoved in the corner. It turned on with a hum and opened up a sign-in page.

          Derek swore but I tried a few passwords. After three attempts, I got in.

          I let out a low laugh. "And the man calls me predictable."
"What did you put in?"
I shrugged. "Just a date."
"Of?"
My hand hovered over the mouse and I swallowed. "We can talk about it later."

          I opened up his emails. Marcus was a hoarder, it seemed. Keeping everything accounted for: all evidence, all resources. Everything used to its maximum capacity.

          I skimmed the recent contents, selecting one from Doctor G. Arnold.

SUBJECT: PROGRESS REPORT: TS:RG3.

Knight,

Subject has displayed a poor response to the administered dose of the immunology-focussed serum. Metabolism increased, as predicted, as did persistence when encouraged to exercise, but disease resistance has remained at previous levels. The subject's pollen allergy has not yet shifted, and side effects are evident. Migraines, in particular, are frequent.

Samples of the original serum are running low. I request effort on your part is made to acquire more.

Regards,

Dr. G. Arnold.

          My breath was loud enough for Scotty to take notice.
"What is it?"
"He... he has a serum," I replied. "A serum for immunity."
"Was that not his goal?" Derek asked. He had been reading it alongside me and finished a few seconds later.
"Yes. He wants to improve the human body. Push it through unnatural boundaries. He's getting close, it seems, but this serum hasn't been perfected if the subjects used to test it aren't responding completely. Side effects, ongoing allergies – they shouldn't be happening."
"Good for us if it means he's not finished," said Derek. "But bad for the subjects with that thing in their veins."
I struggled to think of it. "The man's a monster. He doesn't care for those who suffer at his hands."
"Why is he doing this?" Derek folded his arms, frowning. "He wants to improve human lifestyle while killing others? It makes no sense."
"It's the same mindset as Alistair's. He sacrifices a few hundred to help a couple million."
His features knitted together like a puzzle slotting into place. "His betrayal hit you the same way Marcus's did, didn't it?"
I nodded. "It was worse in a way. I never looked up to Marcus, but Alistair was like... god, it feels so stupid to even say it now."
"Like the father you never had?"
I winced. "Don't make me cringe, please."
"Am I wrong?"
I wished that he was. "No. No, you're not wrong."

          His fingers managed to lace through mine before I noticed he even moved. He hated the man, but he understood. If I broke it down to basic psychology, it was the equivalent to Rick betraying Derek, albeit Alistair was a much harsher guardian.

          I scrolled down a few more emails until one from a day prior stuck out.

SUBJECT: DUE PAYMENT

Knight,

I understand your frustrations at the lack of payments recently. However, considering how events unfolded last year, I am sure you are aware of how many eyes now watch our every move. If you still can't comprehend the extents I have had to go through just to board a plane, I would care to remind you that it was your plan to expose us all to your daughter – not to mention the damned secret service. Thank you for that, by the way.

The Gambler's Guild is holding another meeting in a month's time. I have attended before, and the event is discreet enough that I know we will not be followed. The stakes in this game are high – I will need a great portion of the funds just to enter – but I am confident I can secure the match. More details will be sent over within the week, and I await your confirmation for me to participate.

Miss S. Li

         
          I took a picture of the email on my phone.

          Derek grinned. "We've got him?"
"We've got him."
Scotty cackled. "Hell yeah! We're taking the bastard down."
"Not so fast," I reminded him. "We still don't know where this event is, or what it entails, or—"
"Amber." Derek squeezed my hand. "You made the decision to come here. You found the first shred of evidence after an empty year. Celebrate it."
I smiled.
"There you go."

          It lasted only a few seconds, fading with every email in front of us.

          "No. No, no." I tried clicking, dragging, typing – anything to get the text back. "Scotty?"
"I-I can't do anything. It's being deleted from an external—" He paled. All of us did as black letters formed on the white screen.

Stop. Looking.

          "Ew. It's creepy!" Scotty cried, backing away.
"How does he—" A webcam fastened to the top of the computer. I scowled, taking out my gun. Marcus was watching us.

          "Wait." Derek lowered my arm.
"We need to destroy it. What are you—"

          He stood in front of me and stared down the camera as he rose two middle fingers and pecked them simultaneously.
"Kiss my arse, Doctor."

          He punched the camera, breaking it in one collision.

          I was unsure of what to say.
"That was... one way to do it."
He shrugged. "Got to do everything in style."

          My shoulders dropped, and I released a breath.
"We've got nothing, now. Just one email."
"It could be enough," he replied. "We can—"
"Ow!"

          We spun around. Scotty keeled over, clutching his purpling forehead, behind him another one of Marcus's followers, clutching a club.

          I jumped first, grabbing the weapon before he could swing. I pulled it towards me, bending his knees, and jabbed the back of them with my foot.

          Click.

          Derek pointed his gun at the assailant. "Don't."

          The hostile's subtle hand balled into a fist above the firearms at his sides, only a second away from firing them if Derek had not reacted. I snatched them from reach and fastened them both to my belt, chucking the club away.

          Scotty groaned from the doorway and staggered in, clutching his skull. I moved his hand away, frowning at the speckles of blood that trickled from his skin.
"Are you disorientated?"
"Head's throbbing. But no."
"Any nausea?"
"No."

          I turned back to the hostile, then, with a clenched jaw, dragged over the office seat for Derek to throw him in. He kept his gun aimed for the skull.

          "This can be as easy or as difficult as you make it out to be," he warned.
"I ain't telling you nothing."
I angled my head. "Is loyalty to Marcus really worth your life?"
"It's—" He froze, staring into my eyes, his own spinning in recognition. "You're her. You're his."

          Not for over twenty-four years was I ever his. Slower, I continued, "I'll say it again: is loyalty to Marcus really – I mean really – worth your life?"
He sighed through his nose. "Depends what you want to know."
Scotty stood at my side. "There were two girls here—"
"There were a lot of girls here."
Scotty gulped. "We're looking for two specific girls," said Derek. "One's a teenager. Dark, reddish hair, brown eyes, brown skin with freckles, very small—"
"I know her. She bit me!"
I snorted. "Sounds like her."
"Where is she?" Derek pushed. He tried to rein in his emotions, but they were spilling over.
"I don't know. All the prisoners were moved first when the evacuation started."
"If you're not telling us something—"
"Look, mate, I just work here."

          I sniffed, shaking my head in disgust. "You mean you work for a criminal that tortures innocents for a living."
"It's still a living."
"Pig."
"Would you judge a man for paying his rent?"
"I'd judge a man for living on top of the graves of others."
He jumped to his feet. "Call me out again, bitch!"

          Derek stepped between us.
"Sit down."
"She—!"
"I said—" He shoved him back into the chair. "—sit down."

          Keeping my back straight, I took a step backwards, letting Derek take over.

          "There's another girl. Older. London accent. Dark hair and skin."
"Ah." He nodded, his crooked smile twisting my gut. "I remember her. Pretty thing."
"She's not a thing," Scotty snapped. "Where is she?"
"Again, she's been moved. Kicked up a fuss when she was separated from that young one."
"But they're alive?"
"Aye. Both of them."

          I shared a glance with Derek. Hope existed. When a year passed, we feared the worst but now there was a chance. The interrogation combined with the bracelet and the email offered a decent shot at finding Gabby and Jade again. How they would come out of the nightmare was a thought I did not want to ponder on for too long. We'd deal with it when we found them.

          "How far is Marcus in his research?" I asked.
"I'm just hired muscle. I don't know anything about the research."
"Do you know where the other facilities are?"
"No."
"Can you name a city they might be in?"
"No."
"A country, at least?"
"Nope. I'm useless to you now, sweetheart."
I raised my brows. "That you are."

          Derek clutched my arm as I reached for the gun at my side.

          "We can't leave him alive," I argued. "He'll alert the others."
"Then we arrest him."
Scotty shook his head. "Can't lug him all the way back to Tracey."
"He's Marcus's muscle," I added. "We need to deplete him of every resource possible."
"We can't go around killing every unarmed individual that works for him."
"You killed one earlier."
"He attacked us. It was different."

          I scoffed. As Sienna stated, Marcus's funds were drying up. It was plausible he could not afford to replace any lost security, therefore every resource lost was our gain.

          Derek lowered his voice. "I don't care about him. But keep him alive. Do it for you. Please."

          With a groan, I whacked the worker over the head. He grunted and slouched further into the chair, losing consciousness. It would keep him out the way, at least.

          "Thank you," Derek breathed.
"Let's just go. I've had enough of this place now."
"Right." He gestured for Scotty to follow. We fell into step side by side, my friend shadowing us in uncharacteristic silence.

          "It's for the best," Derek whispered. "You can't push too far, otherwise you'll lose yourself."
"If you want to talk about pushing too far, why don't we discuss you skipping your last week of medical leave to come here?"
"I came to rescue you, Amber. I thought you were dead."
I swallowed then shook my head. "Don't put yourself at risk for me. Don't ever do that."
"Would you sit and wait around if I was in trouble? Collins told me how you half-killed yourself dragging me across London." I pinched my eyes shut and sighed. I thought he never knew about that. "You are the most important aspect of my life. I'd never let you suffer, especially alone. Not again."
I looked at him. "And I you."
"Then we're agreed: we dive into danger, we do it together?"
I choked on a laugh. "You've got me there. Agreed."

QOTD: Any theories regarding Gabby and Jade?