Axel groaned as he slowly came to his senses, his head throbbing with a dull ache. As he blinked his eyes open, he was met with the grim faces of Eric, Christoff, and the rest of their companions. The air was thick with tension, the kind that wraps around your lungs and makes it hard to breathe.
“Hmmm… Hmmmmm…” Axel mumbled, his voice barely more than a croak as he tried to shake off the lingering fog of unconsciousness.
“Shhh! If you don’t want us to be found and killed here, keep quiet. Unless, of course, you don’t care about the group,” Eric hissed, his eyes flashing with irritation and something darker
Axel shook his head, his eyes pleading as they moved towards Christoff, his only hope in this tense standoff.
Christoff cleared his throat, his voice tentative but earnest. “Mr. Eric, maybe he has something to say.”
Eric’s jaw tightened, and with a sharp motion, he pointed the gun directly at Axel’s head. The cold barrel pressed against Axel’s temple was a complete reminder of the stakes they were playing for. Slowly, Eric ripped the tape from Axel’s mouth, leaving his lips raw and bleeding.
“Mr. Eric…” Christoff whispered. He had seen Eric like this before, calculated, ruthless. It was the side of Eric that even his closest friends feared.
Eric’s eyes bore into Axel’s, his voice low and menacing. “You know why I’m doing this, Axel. We trusted you.”
Axel took a deep breath, the weight of his betrayal hanging heavy in the air. “I know, I’m sorry. But Blaze and Victoria are inside.”
“Inside?” Eric echoed, confusion knitting his brows together. “What do you mean?”
Axel’s gaze flickered towards the looming dark shape of the library, its darkened windows hiding secrets within. “In the library, there’s a secret door that leads underground. That’s where all the evidence, illegal documents, guns, and other things about Mr. Jaxon are kept.”
A silence fell over the group, Eric’s grip on the gun tightened, his mind racing through the implications of Axel’s words. The library, an innocent facade hiding a web of lies and danger beneath.
Christoff glanced at Eric, his eyes silently pleading for him to lower the gun. “We have to check it out, Eric. If Axel’s telling the truth, it could change everything.”
Eric’s eyes remained locked on Axel, searching for any sign of deceit. He lowered the gun, his gaze never wavering. “Alright. But if you’re lying, Axel, it won’t just be your life on the line. It’ll be all of ours.”
Axel nodded, relief washing over him. He knew the gravity of the situation, the thin line they all walked between survival and destruction.
"Mr. Eric," a deep voice broke the tense silence, drawing everyone's attention. Darius, stood a few steps back, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp and alert.
"Darius," Eric turned to face him. "Why did you come down?"
Darius adjusted his glasses with a practiced ease. "I saw someone arrive," he said, his tone calm and measured.
"How many?" Eric's question was clipped, urgency underlying his words.
"Just Fiona. I saw Fiona arrive and enter the mansion," Darius responded.
Eric and Christoff exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. Darius's sharp eyes caught the subtle exchange, and he narrowed his gaze.
"You knew?" Darius asked, his voice laced with both seriousness and doubt.
Eric nodded, his expression earnest. "We couldn't tell you right away because the plan was changing."
Darius's eyes softened, and he inclined his head slightly. "I understand, Sir Eric," he replied, his tone professional and respectful.
Their moment of calm was shattered by the noise crack of a gunshot from inside the mansion. Sending a jolt of adrenaline through the group. Eric's eyes hardened, and he immediately signaled for everyone to be on high alert.
"Fifteen are outside, we are only eight, and there are ten more inside the mansion," Eric began, his voice steady and authoritative. "The SWAT team will arrive later, I'm sure of it. Christoff will come with me inside. Darius, you will lead them."
Darius nodded, he understood the weight of Eric's trust and the responsibility placed on his shoulders. "Understood," he replied simply, his voice carrying a quiet confidence.
As Eric and Christoff prepared to enter the mansion, Darius turned to the remaining team members. "Stay sharp and follow my lead," he commanded, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.
They climbed the wall of Mr. Jaxon's mansion, which wasn't too difficult to scale.
But every move they made had to be flawless. Eric, Christoff, Darius, and the rest of the team moved silently. 
Eric, raised his hand, signaling the team to move. Ahead, the three guards stood by the mansion's side entrance, Eric's sharp eyes scanned the area, noting the guards' positions and the rhythm of their movements. He nodded to Christoff, who swiftly prepared the tranquilizer darts.
With a flick of his wrist, Christoff launched the darts. The tiny projectiles flew through the air with precision, finding their marks in the guards' necks. Within moments, the guards slumped to the ground, unconscious.
"Move," Eric whispered, his voice barely audible.
The team advanced, their footsteps barely making a sound. Darius, bringing up the rear, kept his senses alert, his seemingly lazy demeanor hiding a mind that missed nothing. A sudden noise shattered the silence.
Gunshots rang out, the deafening sound echoing off the mansion's stone walls. Bullets whizzed past them, some striking the ground dangerously close. The team scattered, taking cover behind the decorative hedges and marble statues.
The guards must have triggered an alarm before they were tranquilized, alerting the reinforcements.
"Darius, cover us! I and Christoff will entering the mansion," Eric ordered.
Darius nodded, he positioned himself behind a stone fountain, his rifle steady. With expert precision, he returned fire, forcing the attackers to take cover and buy the team some time.
"Everyone, flank them," Eric commanded. "Christoff, follow me."
The team moved, circling around to catch the attackers off guard. The gunfire continued, a deadly dance of bullets and strategy. Eric and Christoff advanced cautiously, using the mansion's exterior and garden features for cover till they successfully enter the mansion.
Meanwhile, Axel struggled against the ropes that bound his wrists and his hands were tied tightly behind his back. Sweat dripped from his brow as he twisted and turned, trying to loosen the bindings.
He couldn't afford to wait, he had to free himself and assist them from the inside, and to protect Fiona. The rough texture of the rope bit into his skin, but he ignored the pain and focused on the task at hand.
He recalled the small piece of stone he had spotted beside the tree when he was awoke. It was sharp enough to cut through the rope. He moved carefully himself, inching toward the corner where the shard lay. With each movement, he felt the rope give slightly.
Finally, his fingers brushed against the shard. He grasped it awkwardly and began sawing at the rope. The process was painstakingly slow, and every second felt like an eternity. He could hear muffled gunfire outside the mansion, a reminder of the urgency of his situation.
After what felt like hours, but was only minutes, the rope began to fray. Axel redoubled his efforts, sawing faster, ignoring the cuts forming on his fingers. With a final, desperate pull, the rope snapped. His hands were free.
Axel rubbed his wrists, wincing at the soreness. He quickly assessed the place, looking for anything he could use as a weapon.
Then, something caught his eye, a glint of metal amidst the greenery. He turned to look around, focusing on the source of the reflection. There, perched precariously atop a sturdy branch of an ancient oak tree, was a gun. Its presence seemed almost surreal, a lifeline in the midst of chaos.
Axel's thoughts immediately turned to Darius. He could almost see the veteran's knowing smirk, his eyes twinkling with that characteristic blend of mischief and wisdom. Darius had always had a knack for anticipating the unpredictable, for leaving behind exactly what was needed at precisely the right moment.
Axel let out a low, appreciative chuckle, shaking his head in amazement. “Tsk, I owe you this one, Darius,” he muttered under his breath, a mix of gratitude.