Ava’s trembling hands gripped the armrests of the wheelchair as Margaret pressed the glass of hot water to her lips.

Ethan, Marcus, and an elite team of five former special-forces tactical operators unmounted from the aircraft into the freezing snowstorm. Clara insisted on accompanying them, stationed inside a mobile command armored vehicle parked two miles from the sanatorium perimeter.

"We have twenty minutes before Eleanor’s deadline," Marcus said, checking his tactical watch as he loaded the magazine of his suppressed rifle. "The facility is guarded by twelve private security contractors funded by Apex. No local police involvement—if Swiss law enforcement gets tipped off, they’ll lock down the compound and use Evelyn as a political pawn."

"I go in first," Ethan said, pulling a black ski mask over his head. "I know the protocol Eleanor uses for high-value targets. She uses a dual-key lockdown system. I take out the guard room, you breach the east wing."

"Be careful, Ethan," Clara’s voice sounded over their tactical headsets from the command van. "Eleanor knows you’re coming. She expects you to act like a hero."

"Then I won't disappoint her," Ethan replied.

Under the cover of the swirling blizzard, Ethan scrambled up the stone perimeter wall of Saint Helena Sanatorium. Cutting through the barbed wire with tactical shears, he dropped silently into the courtyard snow like a shadow.

Bypassing the thermal cameras using a signal scrambler built by Sterling Global's tech division, he slipped through a side service door into the sterile, white-tiled hallways of the facility.

Sprinting down the subterranean corridor, Ethan reached Room 408. The electronic lock glowed bright red. He swiped an override keycard harvested from a downed guard, and the heavy door slid open with a soft metallic hiss.

Sitting in an armchair near a soft reading lamp was Evelyn Vance. She looked up slowly, her eyes cloudy with decades of forced medication, yet holding an undeniable spark of intelligence.

"Who... who are you?" Evelyn asked, her voice raspy and faint.

Ethan pulled down his mask, kneeling before her. "I'm Ethan Sterling. I'm here on behalf of your daughter, Clara. She's alive, Evelyn. And she's waiting for you."

Evelyn’s eyes widened with profound shock. "Clara... my baby girl... is alive?"