For EIGHT MONTHS they lied, blocked, and STARVED her behind mansion walls, and when her broken whisper finally reached me, they mocked the old soldier at their gate—what kind of father would I become?

"Chief Vance," Elias said, his voice echoing over the idling engines. "I suggest you check your official email on your secure terminal before you make a mistake that ends in a military tribunal."

Vance hesitated, his hand trembling on his gun. His radio crackled to life with high-priority static.

"Chief Vance! Abort current action! I repeat, ABORT! Stand down immediately!" the voice of the State Police Commissioner blared through the speaker. "The individual at the Thorne estate is operating under Direct Presidential Authority, Title 10 Special Operations Executive Order. You and your officers are to cooperate fully with Colonel Vale or face immediate arrest for treason and obstruction of federal justice!"

Chief Vance’s gun dropped two inches. He looked at Arthur, then at Elias, the realization hitting him like a freight train. The old man standing in front of him wasn't just a retired soldier—he was a legend the federal government still feared.

"Holster your weapon, Chief," Elias said calmly. "And place Julian, Arthur, and Miriam Thorne under federal custody. My team will handle the transfer to the maximum-security holding facility in Blackwood."

Julian panicked. Sensing his world collapsing around him, he lunged from the ground, grabbed a discarded tactical knife from an operative's side pocket, and charged recklessly toward Elias.

"I'll kill you, you old bastard!" Julian screamed.

Elias didn't even draw a weapon. He pivoted on his heels with blinding speed, sidestepping the wild blade. With one fluid motion, Elias caught Julian’s wrist, twisted it until the bone cracked loudly, and slammed his palm directly into Julian’s sternum.

Julian flew backward three feet, collapsing onto the grass, gasping desperately for air as his ribs fractured under the force of the strike. The knife clattered harmlessly onto the driveway.

Elias stood over him, looking down without a shred of pity.

"My daughter spent eight months begging you for mercy," Elias said, stepping on Julian’s hand with his combat boot, grinding it into the dirt. "You have thirty seconds to tell me where her personal belongings, her art portfolios, and her mother's ring are kept. If you lie to me, I will ensure your prison sentence is served in a black site where the sun never shines."