Human misery.
The doors slide open.
Concrete corridor. Harsh lights. One guard station ahead.
Two hostiles.
They don’t have time to react.
Aaron drops one silently. Jase disables the other before he can reach his radio.
I step past them, eyes scanning.
Cells.
Empty.
Empty.
Then—
Movement.
A man slumped against a far wall, shackled low, head bowed. His body is way too thin. Bruised. Bare feet on concrete.
Alive.
My chest tightens violently.
I move faster.
The man stirs as I approach, lifting his head slowly like it costs him everything.
“Easy,” I say quietly.
His eyes snap up.
And even through the swelling, the exhaustion, the blood—
I know him.
“Marcus,” I breathe.
His lips part. No sound comes out at first. Then—
“Sir?”
The word shatters something in my chest.
I crouch, cutting his restraints carefully, keeping him upright when his legs give.
“You’re safe,” I tell him firmly. “You’re coming home.”
His breath breaks. “You’re… alive.”
“Yes.”
A sound escapes him that isn’t quite a sob and isn’t quite a laugh.
