Elizabeth stared at the monitors in the command vehicle, her breath caught in her throat as she watched the ambush unfold. The cameras captured the chaos—the flashes of gunfire, the desperate retreat of Xavier's team—and then, the sight she couldn't process.
Xavier, lying motionless on the ground.
"No..." she whispered, her voice trembling. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk as if anchoring herself would change what she was seeing.
Clara's sharp voice barked over the comms, pulling Elizabeth from her stupor. "Alpha Team, report! Where's Xavier?"
Silence crackled over the line until one of the team members responded, their voice strained. "He's down. Anderson's men have him."
Elizabeth's vision blurred, her heart pounding so loudly she couldn't hear anything else. Xavier—her rock, her protector—was in Anderson's hands.
Clara swore under her breath, slamming her fist against the console. "This isn't over. We're getting him back."
