Page 111 of Rescuing Ally: Part 2
We move through the lab to a secured door at the far end.
“Biometric and keypad.” Blake examines the lock.
“Can you bypass?” I ask.
“Not without blowing it.”
“Move.” Gabe limps forward.
He pulls a small device from his tactical vest—part of Ghost’s “party favors.” He places it against the keypad. The screen flickers, numbers racing, until it settles on a six-digit code.
The lock disengages with a soft click.
“Cerberus are good friends to have.” Gabe’s mouth curves in a grim smile.
I take point, weapon ready. The door opens to a short corridor with another door at the end. This one is heavier.
“Stack up,” Ethan orders.
We form into position, ready to breach. My heart pounds now, my adrenaline spiking.
So close.
“Three,” Ethan counts down. “Two. One.”
The final door opens.
Six women stare back at us. Their faces show exhaustion, fear, and defiance.
At the center of the room stands Ally, her hair falling loose around her shoulders, her body tensed like a cornered wolf. Her eyes widen as they land on Gabe, and then me.
“You’re not real,” she whispers. “You died.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. Malfor’s games run deeper than we thought. He didn’t just take her—he made her believe we were dead. Showed her something to break her spirit.
Didn’t work. The woman standing before us is battered but unbroken. Ally Collins to the core.
Gabe lowers his rifle, hands lifting slowly. His movements deliberate, careful, like approaching a wounded animal.
“Takes more than that to keep us away from you.” His voice cracks with emotion he rarely lets show.
Ally’s eyes dart between us, disbelief warring with desperate hope. “The helicopter,” she breathes. “The explosion. Malfor—he showed us?—”
“Later,” I cut in, keeping my voice steady. Tactical mindset takes over. “Right now, we get you out.”
Her fingers lift, trembling, reaching toward Gabe’s face. She touches his jaw, traces the scar at the corner of his mouth. Testing if he’s real or another of Malfor’s illusions.
“You’re real,” she murmurs. Her voice breaks. Her throat catches on a sob that sounds ripped from somewhere deep and raw. “You’re actually real.”
Something shifts in my chest. A tightness I’ve carried since that night she and the others disappeared, finally begins to loosen.
“We’d crawl through fire to get to you,” Gabe says, leaning in to press his forehead against hers. His hands cup her face with a gentleness I’ve rarely seen from him.
Then she’s lifting on tiptoe, her lips finding his in a desperate kiss that speaks of weeks of fear and loss. Gabe’s arms tightenaround her, holding her like she might vanish if he loosens his grip even slightly.
When they break apart, Ally turns to me, her eyes glistening with tears. I move closer, my hand finding her back.
“We went to hell, sweetheart. We ripped the gates off to get here.” My voice thickens with emotion I don’t bother to hide. “Nothing—not death, not lies, not Malfor’s sick games—could keep us from you.”
