The Night

The night grew still as Peter and Johan vanished into the shadows, leaving behind the echoes of their struggle. The hospital stood like a silent tomb, its halls bearing the scars of the chaos that had unfolded. Outside, Vardan was the first to awaken. His body protested with pain as he groaned, clutching his side. His vision swam before settling on the faint forms of Jay and Leo beside him.

"Jay…" Vardan rasped, his voice hoarse as he nudged his friend.

Jay stirred, blinking sluggishly. His head throbbed from the earlier blow, but seeing Vardan awake brought a flicker of relief. "What… happened? Are we safe?"

Vardan nodded faintly. "For now. Peter and Johan took care of the rest."

Jay sat up, rubbing his temples. His eyes fell on Leo, still unconscious. "What about him?"

"He's fine," Vardan replied, though his gaze lingered on Leo, searching for signs of life. The three of them had endured too much to falter now. "We need to move. If Oliver or reinforcements find us here, we're done for."

Jay agreed, and with their combined effort, they hoisted Leo, supporting his weight as they staggered away from the hospital. Their injuries slowed them, but the urgency of the moment spurred them forward.

As they distanced themselves, the faint rumble of engines reached their ears, growing louder with each passing second. The shadows danced as black SUVs pulled up to the hospital entrance, their headlights slicing through the darkness.

From the lead vehicle, a tall figure stepped out—Oliver. His cold, calculating eyes scanned the scene with quiet menace. Behind him, dozens of armed men fanned out with military precision, their weapons ready as they began their search.

"Find anything suspicious," Oliver ordered, his voice icy and authoritative.

The armed men moved swiftly, combing through the perimeter and surrounding areas while Oliver entered the hospital. His sharp gaze swept over the aftermath of the battle—the scattered bodies of David's team, the blood-streaked walls, and the remnants of chaos.

Descending to the lower levels, Oliver's expression remained stoic as he reached the scene of David's demise. The sight of David's body, his face crushed into the floor, betrayed the intensity of his final moments.

Oliver turned to the nearby surveillance setup, but frustration flickered in his eyes when he realized the cameras were offline. Not a single piece of hardware remained intact. Whoever had been here had erased every trace.

His jaw tightened as he continued his search. He knew Peter had escaped, taking the others with him. The lack of evidence only deepened his suspicion, but he remained calm, calculating his next move.

Turning away from the wreckage, Oliver ascended the stairs, his men regrouping outside. "They're gone," he muttered under his breath, his tone cold and resolute.

But as he stepped back into the night, his mind churned. This wasn't the end. Peter and the others might have escaped, but the organization never let loose ends linger for long.