The Sister's Vow
1759 Words
The van doors slammed shut, and Emily's scream was still echoing in the trees when David pulled her back inside the cabin.
"Let me go!" she shouted, struggling against his grip. "They're taking him!"
"If you go out there, they'll take you too." David's voice was hard,*** eyes were soft. "James made a choice. We have to respect it."
"Respect it? He just surrendered to the man who killed his brother!"
"His brother isn't dead."
The room went silent.
Emily stopped struggling. "What?"
"Marcus said Danny is alive," David said. "In the White Room. James went to save him."
"It's a trap."
"Of course it's a trap." David released her. "But James knows that. He went anyway. Because that's who he is."
Emily stood in the center of the cabin, her fists clenched, her breath coming in short gasps. Around her, the sixty survivors watched in silence. They'd followed James. Trusted him. And now he was gone.
"We're not leaving him," Emily said.
"No one said we were." Isolde stepped forward. "But we're not charging in blind either. Marcus wants us to panic. To make mistakes. We're not going to give him that satisfaction."
"Then what do we do?"
"We plan. We prepare. And then we go get him back."
---
The cabin's basement became their war room.
Evelyn set up her monitors on a concrete wall, running cables to a generator that coughed and sputtered but held. Kerith brought out her maps, spreading them across a folding table. Jessamine arrived an hour later, smuggled out of the city by one of Wade's contacts, her face pale but determined.
"Marcus is holding James at the old OmniView headquarters," Jessamine said. "The same facility we've been planning to hit."
"He'll have increased security," Evelyn said. "Knowing we're coming."
"Then we hit him before he's ready."
David shook his head. "He's expecting that too. Marcus always thinks three moves ahead."
"Then we think four."
The room fell silent.
Emily spoke. "What if we don't hit the facility at all?"
Everyone looked at her.
"What if we hit something else? Something Marcus cares about more than his security?"
"Like what?" Isolde asked.
Emily pulled out her phone—a new one, untraceable, courtesy of Jessamine. She pulled up a photograph. A building. Glass and steel. Familiar.
"OmniView Tower," Emily said. "Evelyn's old headquarters. It's still the heart of the Committee's surveillance network. If we take it down, we blind them."
Evelyn stared at the photograph. "That's... not a terrible idea."
"Thank you."
"It's also suicide. The tower is better guarded than the facility. Marcus has been expecting an attack there for months."
"Then we give him something to expect somewhere else." Emily looked at David. "You said Marcus thinks three moves ahead. So we make four moves. Simultaneously. Hit the tower. Hit the facility. Hit his supply lines. Hit his communications. Overwhelm him."
David was silent for a long moment.
"That's insane," he said.
"Probably."
"But it might work."
---
They planned through the night.
Evelyn would lead the tower assault—she knew the building's secrets, its blind spots, its escape routes. Isolde would go with her, along with twenty fighters.
David would lead the facility assault—the rescue mission, the fight to free James and Danny. He'd take twenty more.
Jessamine would coordinate from a remote location, monitoring Committee communications, feeding intelligence to both teams.
And Emily...
"You're staying here," David said.
"No."
"You're a surgeon. Not a soldier. If you get hurt, we lose our only doctor."
"James is out there. I'm not sitting in a basement while he's—"
"Emily." David's voice was gentle but firm. "The best way you can help James is by being alive when we bring him back. He needs someone to patch him up. Someone to remind him why he's fighting. That's you."
Emily's jaw tightened. But she didn't argue.
---
The attacks were set for 48 hours later.
Two days to prepare. Two days to rest. Two days for James to survive whatever Marcus had planned for him.
Emily spent those days in the cabin's makeshift medical bay, organizing supplies, treating wounds, keeping her hands busy so her mind wouldn't spiral.
On the second night, Evelyn found her there.
"You should sleep," Evelyn said.
"So should you."
Evelyn sat down on a cot across from her. "I never thanked you. For saving my life. After the shooting."
"You don't need to thank me."
"I know. But I wanted to." Evelyn looked at her hands. "I've done terrible things, Emily. Things I can never undo. Things that would make you hate me if you knew."
"I already know."
Evelyn looked up.
"I know about the people you erased before you turned against the Committee. I know about the deals you made to survive." Emily's voice was calm. "I know you're not a good person. But you're trying to be. That counts for something."
"Does it?"
"It counts for everything."
Evelyn was silent for a moment. Then she stood up.
"Thank you," she said again.
And she left.
---
The morning of the attack, Emily stood at the cabin door, watching the fighters load into vans.
David came up beside her.
"You take care of him," Emily said.
"I'll do my best."
"That's not good enough."
David smiled—a rare sight, brief but genuine. "I know."
He climbed into a van. The doors closed. The convoy rolled out.
Emily watched until the dust settled.
Then she went back inside to wait.
---
The tower assault began at 3 PM.
Evelyn's team approached from the west, using the same maintenance tunnels James had used weeks ago. Isolde led, her gun drawn, her eyes sharp.
They reached the service elevator. Isolde pressed the button. The doors opened.
Inside, two guards.
Isolde didn't hesitate. She disabled them both in three seconds—a punch, a kick, a chokehold. They dropped without a sound.
"Clear," she whispered.
The team piled into the elevator. Evelyn pressed the button for the 86th floor.
The elevator rose.
---
The facility assault began at 3:15.
David's team approached from the east, using the old subway tunnels. Kerith had mapped the route, marking guard positions, camera blind spots, motion sensor ranges.
They reached the facility's outer wall. David placed a breaching charge against the concrete.
"Fire in the hole," he whispered.
The explosion was muffled—designed to be quiet, to attract minimal attention. The wall crumbled.
David stepped through the smoke.
---
James was in a cell.
Not white this time. Concrete. Dark. Cold. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting harsh shadows on his face.
He'd been there for two days.
They'd questioned him. Beaten him. Starved him. He hadn't talked.
Not because he was brave. Because he didn't know anything they didn't already know.
The door opened.
Marcus Webb stepped inside.
"Still alive," Marcus said. "I'm impressed."
"Let me see my brother."
"In time." Marcus pulled up a chair, sat across from James. "First, I want to talk. About your friends. About their attack."
James's heart stopped. "What attack?"
"The one happening right now. At the tower. At this facility." Marcus smiled. "Did you think we didn't know? Your people have a spy in their midst. Not the one you caught. Another one."
James lunged at him.
The chains around his wrists stopped him short.
"Who?" James demanded.
Marcus stood up. "You'll find out soon enough."
He left.
The door slammed shut.
---
The tower assault went wrong at 3:22.
Evelyn's team reached the 86th floor. The elevator doors opened onto a hallway lined with armed men.
Ambush.
"Down!" Isolde shouted.
Gunfire erupted. Evelyn dove behind a marble column. Bullets ricocheted off the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Two of her fighters went down—hit, bleeding, screaming.
Isolde returned fire. Three guards fell. Four more took their place.
"We need to retreat!" Evelyn shouted.
"No retreat." Isolde's voice was cold. "We finish this."
She charged.
---
The facility assault went wrong at 3:28.
David's team breached the inner wall and found themselves in a killing zone. Guards on elevated platforms, firing down. No cover. No exit.
"Fall back!" David shouted.
They tried. The entrance was blocked. More guards had emerged from side passages, cutting off their retreat.
"We're trapped," Kerith said.
David looked at the guards. At his people. At the walls closing in.
"No," he said. "We're not."
He pulled a grenade from his vest—a flashbang, not lethal, but disorienting. He pulled the pin and threw it.
The explosion was blinding.
David charged through the smoke.
---
Emily waited.
The cabin was silent. The radio on the table crackled with static. Jessamine's voice, barely audible, reporting from her remote location.
"Tower team is pinned down. Facility team is trapped. Both assaults are failing."
Emily stood up.
"No," she whispered.
"I'm sorry. I—"
The radio went dead.
Emily grabbed her coat.
---
She drove fast.
The road was dark, winding through the mountains. She didn't know where she was going—not really. Just toward the city. Toward James. Toward whatever came next.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She answered.
"Dr. Park." Marcus Webb's voice. Calm. Amused. "I've been expecting your call."
"I didn't call you."
"No. But I knew you'd come. You love him. That makes you predictable."
"Where is he?"
"In the facility. Waiting for you." A pause. "I'll let you see him. On one condition."
"What?"
"You bring me Evelyn Cross. Alive. Unharmed. And I'll let you both walk away."
"You're lying."
"Am I? Your friends are dying, Dr. Park. Every minute you hesitate, more of them fall. Make a choice."
The line went dead.
Emily stared at the phone.
Then she turned the car around.
---
She found Evelyn in the basement of the tower.
The assault had failed. Isolde was wounded, bleeding from a gash in her arm. The remaining fighters were scattered, hiding in the maintenance tunnels.
Evelyn sat against a wall, her face pale, her hands shaking.
"Emily," Evelyn said. "What are you doing here?"
"Marcus called me. He wants you. In exchange for James."
Evelyn's eyes widened. "You're not considering—"
"I'm considering everything."
"Emily, if Marcus gets me, he wins. The Committee wins. Everything we've fought for—"
"I don't care about the Committee. I care about James."
Evelyn stared at her.
Then she nodded slowly.
"I understand," she said. "If I were you, I'd make the same choice."
She stood up.
"Take me to him."
- Writer
