Page 24 of Rescuing Ally: Part 2
“He did,” Forest cuts in, unmoved. “We have him on camera leading a tactical team into Guardian HQ. They took Ally and five other women. It was a premeditated, coordinated attack.”
Collins’s face transforms—age etching itself into every line as the reality hits. Ten years older in ten seconds. His hand moves toward his phone.
“I’ll call him. There must be?—”
“He won’t answer.” Forest’s voice remains measured. “His communication devices went dark immediately after the extraction. We’ve been monitoring all channels.”
Collins tries anyway, fingers jabbing at his desk console. We watch him dial once, twice. The muscle in his jaw twitches with each unanswered ring.
I catalog every micro-expression—the flare of his nostrils, the whitening of his knuckles, the rapid blink pattern signaling cognitive overload. This isn’t just a billionaire losing an asset. This is a father realizing his daughter is gone, taken by someone he trusted.
“Mr. Collins,” Hank says, his voice like steel. “We need everything you have on Harrison. Any changes in behavior. Any unexplained absences. Financial issues. Pressure points. Anything unusual in the past six months.”
Collins doesn’t respond immediately. His gaze goes distant, processing. Then, like watching a transformation in real time, something shifts.
The shock recedes.
The confusion hardens.
The grief calcifies into something dangerous.
I’ve seen this before—on battlefields, in hostage situations. The moment when emotion transforms into lethal purpose.
Robert Collins, grieving father, disappears.
In his place sits the man who built a tech empire from nothing. The strategic genius who crushed competitors and reshaped global markets. The ruthless tactician who doesn’t just play the game—he rewrites the rules.
“Whatever you need,” he says, voice dropped an octave, resonating with absolute certainty. “Whatever it costs. Bring her back.”
His eyes lock with mine for a beat too long—recognition passing between predators of different species but similar appetites.
“We will,” I respond, the promise a blood oath.
Forest nods to Mitzy, who brings up a secondary display. “We need full access to your security systems. All footage of Harrison for the past three months. Communications logs. Building access records. Everything.”
Collins doesn’t hesitate. “Authorization codes incoming. You’ll have unrestricted access to all systems.”
Mitzy’s tablet pings with the transfer. She nods once, already diving into the new data stream.
“Tell us about Harrison,” Ethan presses, stepping forward. “Anything that could explain this.”
Collins runs a hand through his silver hair—the first truly human gesture since the news hit. “Harrison has been our head of security for twenty years. Before that, he was with the State Department’s diplomatic security service. Before that, the military. Impeccable record. Rigorous vetting. I trusted him with my daughter’s life. With my life.”
The betrayal cuts deeper when it comes from someone positioned to protect. I know this firsthand. So does everyone in this room.
“Family?” Hank asks, voice clinically detached.
“Divorced over a decade ago. Two adult children—son and daughter. Both estranged, from what I understand. He never spoke much about his personal life.”
“Financial status?” I ask, mind already mapping potential vulnerabilities. Men break for two reasons—money or loved ones.
“Comfortable. Not extravagant. We pay well, and he’s been smart with investments.” Collins frowns, thoughts visibly accelerating. “But there have been—changes. Subtle things.”
Rigel leans forward slightly. “What kind of changes?”
“He’s been more distant. Preoccupied.” Collins’s eyes narrow in thought. “Missed a security briefing last month—first time ever. Claimed it was a dental emergency. And he’s been unusually interested in Ally’s research. Asked detailed questions about her quantum work after Kazakhstan.”
That clicks something into place for me—a detonator finding its charge. Harrison asking about Ally’s research. About the work Malfor wanted.
