Under The Dome

Evie's eyes darted to the watch dangling from the assassin's hand, her mind racing. Fear coiled tightly in her chest, but she forced herself to breathe. This was a game, one she could still win if she played her cards right.

She raised her hands in mock surrender, stepping back toward the room. "Fine," she said, her voice steady despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins. "You've made your point. Let's talk."

The assassin chuckled, clearly amused. "Smart choice." He gestured for her to sit back down, his other hand tucking the watch into his pocket. "Start talking, then. What's your angle?"

Evie lowered herself onto the chair but didn't let him tie her up again. Her fingers brushed against the Swiss knife hidden in her lap. "You're clearly not stupid, so let me make this easy for both of us. You want Jarad. I get that. But let me tell you something—if you even think about hurting me or my family, Jarad won't just kill you. He'll make you wish you'd never been born."

The assassin tilted his head, intrigued. "Bold words for someone in your position."

"Not bold—true." Evie leaned forward, locking eyes with him. "You've done your homework on Jarad, haven't you? You know what he's capable of. But what you don't know is what he becomes when he has nothing to lose. If I'm gone, if my parents are gone... you've just signed your death warrant. No amount of hiding will save you."

The assassin's hand tightened around the hilt of his knife, and Evie's heart pounded in her chest, but she didn't flinch. She pressed on, her voice gaining strength. "You want to use me as bait? Fine. But I'm your only leverage. Keep me alive, keep me in one piece, and you might actually have a chance of pulling this off. Harm me, and you'll lose control of the situation. Do you really want to gamble on that?"

For a long moment, silence hung between them. The assassin's piercing eyes bore into hers, as if trying to peel back her layers and find the fear she was so determined to hide.

Then, he laughed—a low, sharp sound that sent chills down her spine. "You've got guts, I'll give you that," he said, stepping back. "And you're not wrong. Jarad's... predictable, in his way. You, though—you're a wildcard."

He leaned against the doorframe, his posture deceptively casual. "Alright, Evie. You've bought yourself some time. But don't think for a second that I'm letting my guard down. One wrong move, and you'll find out exactly how creative I can be."

Evie held his gaze, refusing to back down. "You'll find out I'm not so easy to break."

The assassin smirked, pushing off the frame. "We'll see about that." With one last glance, he turned and exited, leaving her alone in the room once more.

Evie exhaled shakily, her fingers curling tightly around the Swiss knife still hidden in her lap. The faint glint of blood on his blade lingered in her mind, her stomach twisting. She thought of Jarad—his steady voice, his unshakable belief in her strength. I just need to survive long enough for him to find me.

Her eyes flicked to the window, then to the door. The game wasn't over yet.

---

The darkness inside the Dome was suffocating, a heavy blanket of shadows that clung to Jarad and his crew as they waited in silence. The air was stagnant, carrying the faint metallic tang of rust and decay, mingled with the distant hum of machinery. Somewhere in the distance, a faint, rhythmic dripping echoed, the sound amplified by the vast, hollow expanse.

They crouched just beyond the reach of a faint, flickering overhead light, the glow casting jagged shadows across the cracked concrete walls. The entrance to the bunker loomed ahead, a steel door reinforced with layers of plating Jarad had installed himself. Now, that door was slightly ajar, the sharp edges of its frame scraped and scarred. It was a silent declaration: Someone else has been here.

Jarad's eyes remained locked on the door, his jaw tight as anger simmered beneath his calm exterior. The bunker wasn't just another battleground. It was a relic of Jarad's pain, built brick by brick in the aftermath of loss. Each scarred wall told a story of desperation, of nights spent wondering if survival was worth it. Now, that sanctuary was compromised, defiled by the very people who had taken Evie.

"They haven't moved her," Toni murmured, her voice a whisper carried only to Jarad's ears. She crouched beside him, her sharp features obscured in the shadows, her breath misting faintly in the cold air. "Sensors show no signs of transport. She's either still inside, or—"

"She's inside," Jarad cut in, his tone sharp and absolute. The way he said it left no room for argument, as though some unseen bond tied him to Evie. He knew she was still there.

A few meters away, Frieda pressed herself against a rusted pillar, her sleek frame blending into the surroundings. The faint green glow of her scanner flickered against her face as she whispered, "No movement outside. If they're still here, they're either confident we won't attack, or they're waiting for us to make the first move."

"They're underestimating us," Leon added, his deep voice steady. From his position near a heap of overturned crates, he kept his rifle aimed toward the entrance, his finger resting lightly on the trigger. "Big mistake."

Jarad's gaze remained fixed on the bunker, but his mind raced. The walls were still intact, the security measures unbreached—but there were weak points inside, ones he knew intimately. If their enemies had Evie, they were relying on the same defenses that once protected him.

The faint, sterile hum of hidden generators buzzed faintly through the ground beneath them, mingling with the distant creak of settling metal. A low vibration tickled at the edge of perception—barely noticeable, but there. It was the bunker's internal systems, still active.

"We go in," Jarad said finally, his voice low but commanding. "Toni, take point on the south entrance. Frieda, cover the west. Leon, you're with me at the main entry. No noise, no unnecessary movement. We neutralize anyone we find. The priority is getting Evie out alive."

Toni nodded, adjusting the strap of her rifle. "South entrance is likely blocked with debris. I'll improvise if I have to."

"And if she's not alone?" Frieda asked cautiously, her gaze meeting Jarad's.

He turned to her, his eyes cold and unyielding. "Then we make them regret stepping foot in here."

The faint scuff of boots on concrete blended seamlessly with the ambient sounds of the abandoned facility as the team moved into position. Beneath the Dome's oppressive weight, the air grew colder, biting at their skin.

This wasn't just a rescue. This was a reckoning. And Jarad had every intention of ensuring no one walked away unscathed.