ISRAEL'S POV
I guess I must have concentrated too much on my anger and hatred for Lucas, Zuri and all of them, that I forgot about Liam in my hands. I had all the while been holding him in my hands, for he was the key to my freedom. So when I answered that call, I let down my guard, and before I knew it, I felt pain in my right shoulder. I winced in pain as I went down on one knee. My hold on Liam was still firm, but I knew that my chances of escape had reduced to less than one percent. I felt yet another pain on my shoulder, just next to the first place.
"Hold your fire! We want him alive! Fraser, take the child!"
I fell on my stomach as an officer ran in my direction.
"Take the child, Fraser!" A voice screamed, followed by more pain somewhere into my rib-cage.
The child was taken from me, and I saw handcuffs dangling in the air above my head.
"Let the medical staff attend to the child now!!" the officer commanded.
"Israel! Damn, he has been arrested!" Zuri's voice came through the phone which was still on the floor next to me.
I immediately saw, in my mind, an image of myself back in those cells. The fights in the cells. The pain of counting down until one's release. I closed my eyes and refused to accept my fate. I knew that since they wanted me alive so badly, I was going to get the best treatment there ever was. And I was counting on the cops to make one small error, and trust me; that was all I needed to break free; and they were never going to see my face again.
AT THE AIRPORT BASE, YELLOWLEAF
From the other side of the building came a cop running, panting, "there is a secret basement, sir! There is a secret basement!"
"Well get going now!! Search every place!" Harris commanded.
"I'm going with them," Roderick said and before Carl could say or do anything, he and Pete ran following the cops who were going down. One of them led everyone to a room where he immediately shifted a huge wall picture which was hiding a secret door. It led to a flight of descending stairs which they immediately took.
"More torches!!" Fraser shouted. The stairs continued to go down until they reached a floor. There were rooms in that floor, all of them empty.
"This can't be!!" Fraser frowned.
"Could there be a double basement!" Pete suggested.
"Search for any other doors!", Fraser called out.
Sure enough, another door was soon located, and in they went. When they were halfway down the flight of stairs, a strong stench, smelling more like gas, greeted them. Immediately they heard footsteps, and a man ran across the corridor trying to hide.
"Stop! Stop right there!" Fraser barked.
"Don't shoot!" the man spoke. He slowly turned to face the incoming group of people, and they realized that he was wearing an oxygen mask.
"If you shoot, the whole building goes up in flames! There's gas everywhere!" the man laughed in mockery.
"Where're the hostages?" Fraser gritted his teeth in ager.
"Dead somewhere, waiting to be buried!" he laughed again in mockery. Unknown to the man, another cop was coming from behind him, for two cops had managed to sneak forward before the masked man appeared.
The cop used all his might to hit the masked man on his back and he tried to fight but he was punched in the face three times, and the mask was whisked off his face.
"Where are the hostages!!"
The man laughed again.
By then, everyone was beginning to feel the strong smell of gas.
"Bring us oxygen masks!" Fraser spoke into his phone.
"Copied, sir!" a voice rang through.
"The hostages!! Where are they?" Fraser mercilessly kicked the man who was lying on the floor. He winced in pain and coiled up into a ball but said nothing.
"There's a door sir, down that corridor! It looks like a sealed safe; metal door."
Everyone ran towards the officer who had spoken. Some of the cops remained with the man who had just been cuffed up.
The cop led them through a room, and into another room which was much smaller. The smell of the gas was getting more and more stronger.
"Are the masks here yet?" Roderick asked.
"Masks! Bring the masks!" Fraser gave an order through his phone.
Soon they reached the metal door. It was well sealed and it was easy to tell that it was the source of the gas. Down the corridor there was a fire extinguisher with an axe. Fraser grabbed the axe and started hitting on the door, but it all seemed to be in vain.
"de Milo! de Milo are you in there?" Fraser shouted.
"Dylan! Dylan!" Roderick and Pete also called, but there was no response.
Fraser immediately stopped hitting the door.
"Why did you stop? Please save my son!" Roderick's desperate plea came forth.
"Wait, check that man, doesn't he have the door keys?" Fraser raised his brows.
One of the cops ran to check on the man, and soon brought back the key.
The door was unlocked and pulled open, revealing a cloud of gas; which although it was not visible, could be felt heavily in the air. The masks arrived at that very same time, while everyone was beginning to cough. Led by Fraser, the cops went inside.
Roderick took a step in before Carl pulled him back with, "no sir. Please (cough cough). You have done (cough) enough. (cough cough) let the cops do the rest, sir (cough cough)."
Roderick obliged, although his heart would have really wanted to enter into the room.
"Three hostages!!" Fraser shouted from within!
"Helicopter on site!! Three hostages, two men and a woman!"
"Do we have de Milo among the hostages?" a voice could be heard through Fraser's phone.
"I cannot confirm for now. They are badly malnourished and unkempt.!"
On stretcher beds, three people were brought out, their legs and hands tied. The first one was a lady who lay motionlessly on the stretcher bed. Her pitch black hair, mixed with blood, was a messy bun, literally. Immediately another stretcher was pushed out, and on it was an elderly man whose face was covered in blood. His right check was covered with a mixture of blood and something that looked like white foam, which obviously had been tainted red by the blood. There was blood from his nose too, which had already dried up.
Roderick and Pete looked at him in pain, and failing to wait any longer, Pete rushed inside the room.
"Dylan are you here?" he asked, not really expecting to get an answer.
Two men were lifting the last hostage on to the stretcher bed. The young man lay helpless on the bed, not moving an inch.
Pete ran to the stretcher bed, but Roderick failed to take any step forward or backwards, for before him he could see that the chances of his son being alive was at a mere fifty percent. The multi-billionaire's eyes were already teary from the gas. Roderick forced those eyes to see life in Dylan, yet the eyes refused to see life in the young billionaire.
At that moment, the smell of gas and its overall effect on Roderick ceased to matter. All his focus was on his son. Swiftly the cops, paramedics and an emergency care technician hurried with him, out towards the de Milo medical air ambulance which was waiting outside.
Although Roderick had held too many people on their deathbeds, he suddenly understood that it was different when it came to his own flesh and blood. He failed to be of any help, at that moment. Seeing his son's hands and feet tied, he swore in his heart that whoever did that was surely going to pay.
"Is he alive?" Carl asked Roderick with a voice full of fear.
The man did not respond.
"He has to be alive. There is no other option," Pete said with a shaky voice.