Bernardt left the electric scooter on a side street because he wanted to be cautious. Though he didn't mind looking strange, he kept the helmet on his head. He watched from a distance to see if anyone was in front of his house, but nothing seemed suspicious. A car was parked further away, but there was no movement inside. When he had gathered enough courage, he headed towards his garden gate to enter from the back.

He entered the house and couldn't believe it, but everything seemed fine. Of course, the living room was in terrible shape, just as the doctor had described. The curtains were torn and lying on the floor, and his sofa was scratched up, with bits of stuffing poking out here and there. A piece of the treat was in the middle of the living room floor, meaning Katy hadn't eaten it. He knew it was pointless to call for the cat since she never responded to that. As he looked towards the kitchen, he saw the "beast," as Daniela had called her, sitting on the kitchen counter, seemingly calm. She meowed sweetly and looked at him with the expression she had when she was in her excellent kitty mood.

Fighting back the tears, he walked towards the cat, picked her up, and hugged her tightly. He was unable to talk due to a lump in his throat. He felt relieved, believing nothing wrong could happen now—they were safe. He was opening his backpack to put his beloved cat inside, who was already purring, when he noticed something on the kitchen counter he hadn't seen before.

On his marble-topped, pristine white counter lay a black silenced gun. Shocked, he froze and started listening intently for any sounds. But where was the gun's owner? When he heard the toilet flushing from the bathroom, he panicked and instantly knew that the person Zack had sent was there. He didn't understand where he got the courage or determination, but instinctively, he picked up the gun and turned toward the bathroom.

Tim stepped out of the bathroom, and now it was his turn to be shocked. Bernardt immediately recognized him as the guy who had strutted around Zack's place in a lab coat, and it hit him that Tim was also the neon-clad runner in the park. Katy greeted the hitman with a friendly meow, which filled Bernardt with such fury that he didn't fire just once; he emptied the entire magazine into the dumbfounded, tall, big-eared boy.

Gasping for breath, he dropped the gun onto the counter and carefully put Katy into the backpack. At that moment, he also realized they must have been watching him when he handed the plans to the resistance. He now understood why Zack had the description.

Still wearing his helmet, he adjusted it slightly and, feeling like he had taken care of everything, stepped out the door and hurried towards the electric scooter.

The car parked further away must have been Tim's, and it only now occurred to him that it would be more practical to take the car, especially for the forest road. The car reeked of onions, and as he suspected, the key was left inside. He hated driving, but he knew it would be much faster than using the electric scooter, which might need recharging.

Katy didn't feel good either, wrinkling her nose and nudging Bernardt's chin with her head. "It'll be faster this way, you'll see. Just bear with the smell a little longer! I won't take you out of the backpack; it's safer for you this way," he reassured the cat as he fastened his seatbelt carefully, ensuring it didn't squeeze the cat on his chest, just him.

He started shakily, needing to get used to how the pedals worked, particularly how much pressure to apply to the gas pedal. To his surprise, the gas pedal was very sensitive; a slight press made the engine roar to life. Or maybe he was just too nervous?

So they were on their way, and he started to take off his helmet with one hand, tossing it onto the back seat and focused intensely on the road. He was gripping the steering wheel too tightly, approaching every intersection cautiously. "When will we get out of the city?" he asked, to which the cat responded with a meow, patiently watching as her owner fumbled around.

If she could talk, she would probably have commented on his driving, told him to speed up, or asked what he was doing. And Bernardt, even without words, understood what Katy was thinking and replied to her: "I know, but understand. I haven't driven in over ten years. If you think you can't forget how to drive, you're very wrong."

Then he remembered how friendly the cat had been with that Tim kid. She was usually distant and incredibly hostile with strangers. "You weren't a good cat today. Did you let that guy in? You even purred at him? What got into you?" Bernard asked, but Katy just watched the road with her intelligent eyes. It was as if she sensed her owner's uncertainty, keeping an eye on all the other cars and the many pedestrians. Finally, they left the crowded holiday area and headed towards the mountains.

Bernardt felt like he could breathe for the first time, thinking they were on the right track now; they just had to survive these very winding roads. He drove cautiously, perhaps overly so, when another car caught up to him from behind. At first, it just came too close, indicating it wanted to go faster, but because of the successive bends, it didn't dare to overtake. Then, seeing that Bernardt wouldn't speed up, it started honking, making Bernardt more nervous and even more cautious.

To the right of the road was a dizzying drop, and on the left was a cliff face. If someone came from the opposite direction, there wouldn't be much room to maneuver, and he could easily fall into the ravine. The height terrified Bernardt, and he couldn't understand why the driver behind didn't see the danger or where he was in such a hurry to get to.

Thinking more about it, he realized he was also in a hurry but valued caution much more. After going through so much, he wouldn't risk his life to get there a bit sooner.

But the car behind him was in a hurry and wasn't concerned that they were on a dangerous stretch of road. The driver leaned on the horn, trying to get Bernardt to go faster, but since Bernardt couldn't be convinced even by that, the driver made a surprising maneuver and started to overtake him. What bravery, thought Bernardt, holding his breath as he watched, hoping no one would come from the opposite direction, and curious to see who this jerk was who couldn't control himself. When he looked to the side, he saw it was the man from the veterinary clinic. They stared at each other for a moment, and finally, the annoying car overtook him and sped ahead. Then Bernard saw that it braked, and now he was following them, noticing that besides the dog owner in the passenger seat, there were two others in the back and the driver.

Then they braked so hard that he had to stop, and all four of them got out of the car in front and approached him. Bernard didn't know what to make of the situation, but when he saw four guns pointed at him from all directions, he started to suspect he was in trouble.

"I guess I celebrated too soon!" he said worriedly to the cat, who meowed in response.

They opened his car door and gestured for him to get out. Bernardt unfastened his seatbelt, and, with the cat sitting in the backpack on his chest, he got out with his hands raised, staring at them in confusion. He suspected they had recognized him; perhaps he had talked too much at the doctor's office. The dog owner was one of Zack's men.

"Where is Timothy?" asked the dog owner.

"Who?" Bernardt stammered, then glanced at the car and suddenly realized whose he had taken. "Oh, I don't know. The car was in front of my house, and I needed it, so I stole it because the keys were inside... but that's not such a big crime, is it?"

"He's lying!" snapped the guy with glasses. "You're the inventor, aren't you?"

"He is, Bernardt," replied the dog owner.

"Tim was looking for you, and you're driving his car. That's a bit odd," the guy with glasses continued.

"Let's talk to Zack and see what he wants to do with him; we'll take him with us in the meantime," the dog owner said.

"But why? Why not just shoot him and be done with it?"

"We don't know if Tim needed to get something from him."

Bernard felt as if things were happening independently of him. These four armed guys were calmly discussing his fate among themselves. Just when he thought things couldn't get worse, he was in the worst life situation. How would he get out of this? And if everything were true, he would end up back with Zack. They shoved him into the car, put a bag over his head, and tied his hands in front of him.

They drove for a while; he first felt they were on the road, then on a much bumpier path. It must have been a dirt road because the car bounced around, and he swayed back and forth inside. When they finally stopped, they pulled him out of the car and, still with the bag over his head, led him somewhere and down some stairs. A musty smell hit his nose, indicating they were in a basement.

They sat him on a chair, and only then did they remove the bag from his head. By then, Bernardt had lost all hope and knew it was the end. The cat in the backpack on his chest was peering around. He only had one last hope: if the cat managed to escape from here and was lucky, she might end up in good hands, along with the invention. That was all he could think about as he saw that only three guys were with him, waiting, while the fourth must have been talking to Zack.

The room was nearly empty, with a table on the corner and a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, which they turned on. Confirming they were indeed in a basement or semi-basement since there were small, long windows near the ceiling, one of which was open. Carefully, Bernardt raised his tied hands to loosen the backpack strap. Katy sensed she could escape the backpack's trap; she had been fidgeting for a while. With one leap, she landed on the ground and, before anyone could react, jumped onto the table and then on one of the small window sills.

But it wasn't the one that was open. The guy with glasses raised his gun and aimed, but the dog owner grabbed his hand. "Leave it, it's just a cat!"

The third guy, leaning against the wall, lit a cigarette and stared indifferently at the cat, and Katy also eyed the three men from her perch.

Bernardt didn't know how to signal the cat to escape through the open window, but there was no way to signal her. He could only hope that his smart cat knew what to do. But Katy just sat there and started licking her fur.