Page 34 of Shadows of Recovery

"Pull back the perimeter!" Damon shouted, his voice ringing out. "Or she dies next!"

* * *

Brad had steppedfrom the command center and stood feet from the doors, dressed in tactical gear. He watched in horror as Sophie was paraded like a marionette, her movements uncoordinated and her expression dazed. He knew Damon was serious and that any misstep could result in more bloodshed. His mind raced as he tried to find a way to defuse the situation without giving Damon complete control.

"Brad," Alex said, his voice low, “we need to act carefully. He’s using Sophie as a shield. Any aggressive move could get her killed."

Brad clenched his jaw, his eyes never leaving Sophie. He grabbed the radio and issued the command, "All, pull back the perimeter twenty feet. Hold positions, but do not engage. I repeat, do not engage."

The officers and tactical teams reluctantly complied, moving back but keeping a close watch on the hospital entrance. Damon’s triumphant laugh echoed through the air as he saw the police retreat.

"That’s more like it!" Damon called out. "Now we can have a proper conversation."

Brad picked up the phone, dialing the emergency room line again so he wouldn’t have to yell. It rang a few times before Damon answered, still holding Sophie close. He was grateful the ER provided wireless phones to all the hospital’s doctors and nurses.

"I see you’re willing to cooperate,” Damon said. “Good. Now, here’s what’s going to happen."

Brad forced himself to stay calm, but every muscle in his body tensed with anger. "We’re listening, Damon. What do you want?"

"I want a clear path out of here," Damon demanded. "A vehicle ready at the front entrance—no tricks. You give me that, and I’ll consider letting some of these people go."

Brad needed to buy time, to find a way to save Sophie and the other hostages without giving Damon a free pass. "We can arrange that, Damon. But we need to ensure the safety of the hostages first. Release some of them as a show of good faith."

Damon’s spewed, "You’re not in a position to negotiate. Do as I say, or the pretty doctor here won’t make it."

Sophie, despite the pain and terror, managed to lift her head slightly. Her eyes met Brad’s in the distance, and in that brief moment, he saw the plea for help and the strength that still flickered within her. It was enough to steel his resolve.

"Alright, Damon," Brad said, his voice steady. "We’ll get the vehicle. But you need to keep the hostages safe. Any harm to them, and this deal is off."

Damon grinned, a predatory look in his eyes. "Smart move, Brad. You have one hour. Don’t keep me waiting."

The line went dead, and Brad turned to his team, his mind already working on the next steps. "Get a vehicle prepped. We need to make it look convincing."

Brad’s tactical team leader moved to follow the orders. Charlotte and Alex stood nearby, their faces determined. "We need to be ready for anything," Brad said, meeting their eyes. "We’re not letting Damon get away, but we’re doing this smart. No unnecessary risks."

Olivia joined the group, her usually composed demeanor strained as she gritted her teeth. She took a deep breath before she began, her voice low but steady. "I’ve been digging into Damon’s background, trying to piece together his movements and connections. Apparently, he likes to leave the relative safety of the sovereign tribal territory from time to time. He goes into nearby towns, hitting the clubs, picking up prostitutes, and luring other women. It’s a pattern—he thrives on the thrill, the risk. He’s careful, but not careful enough. That’s how I was able to track him.”

Brad frowned, leaning forward as he processed what Olivia was saying. “So he’s been moving in and out of the territory. That’s risky. Where’s he getting the cash to fund this lifestyle?”

Olivia’s expression darkened, the anger simmering just below the surface as she continued, “That’s the thing—Damon isn’t short on money. The Eldon Sect owns a lot of real estate. Every home of the original group is owned by the Whitlock family, as well as a large construction company that’s been growing steadily over the past few years. Damon’s not just some low-level thug. He’s connected, and those connections run deep.”

Brad’s jaw tightened, the implications of Olivia’s findings sinking in. “So, he’s using the sect’s resources to bankroll his little excursions into town. And no one’s stopping him.”

Olivia nodded, her frustration evident. “Exactly. The sect has built up enough power and influence that Damon can move freely, using their wealth to live out his twisted fantasies without much fear of repercussion. But every time he crosses into town, he’s leaving a trail.”

Brad’s eyes narrowed as he considered their options. “We’ll have to move quickly and strategically. Damon’s been playing this game for a long time, but he’s made mistakes. And those mistakes are going to cost him. Does Trace Whitlock know about this?”

The room fell silent as everyone absorbed the gravity of the situation. They were up against a well-connected, dangerous man, but they had an advantage now—knowledge. And with that knowledge, he hoped Damon’s family would help end this.

Brad looked around at the group, his expression resolute. “We’ve got a lot of work to do. But we’re going to take him down. No more running, no more hiding. It’s time to put an end to this.” The next steps would depend on what Ethan found out.

As the preparations began, Brad took a moment to look back at the hospital, his thoughts with Sophie and the others trapped inside. The next hours would be crucial, a delicate balance between negotiation and action. And he was determined to tip the scales in their favor, no matter the cost.

* * *

Tristan and Jamesmoved briskly through the Global Entry line at John F. Kennedy International Airport, filled with worry. They were on their way to catch a flight to Sioux Falls, and from there, a connecting puddle jumper to Waverly Junction. The strain in Tristan's body was visible, each step a reminder of his mounting anxiety about Sophie. He had tried to call Brad and Charlotte Everhart repeatedly but had received no response.

As they finally boarded the flight and settled into their seats, the plane taxied down the runway and ascended into the sky. Tristan's thoughts were a whirlwind of fear and frustration. To distract himself, he turned on the in-flight news channel, hoping for any updates.

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