Chapter 9: The Rescue**
At the end of a dimly lit concrete corridor, inside a windowless holding cell, a bruised and exhausted woman looked up in terror. Clara Miller was bound to a metal chair, her hands zip-tied behind her back, but her eyes held the same fiery resilience Julian had seen in Rory.
"Julian...?" she rasped, her voice dry and cracked. "Where is my baby? Where is Rory?"
Julian drew his tactical knife and sliced through the zip-ties, catching Clara as her weak legs gave out beneath her. "She’s safe. She’s waiting for you."
"They... they took everything," Clara wept, leaning heavily on his shoulder as he guided her toward the emergency exit. "They told me they’d make her disappear."
"It’s over, Clara. The entire network is falling apart," Julian said as they reached the cool night air.
Suddenly, the night shattered with gunfire. The mercenary commander, a towering veteran named Richter, emerged from behind a generator, assault rifle raised and aimed directly at Clara’s chest.
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"Nobody leaves this site alive, Vance," Richter growled, his finger squeezing the trigger.
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