Chapter 66: Drowned Witness

Wild Hounds Headquarters, Now the Reaper’s Force Operating Base

Tractor stood outside the main entrance of the sprawling compound, his massive arms folded across his chest as he watched the gates.

The night air carried the distant sounds of traffic and the occasional hum of engines from the city beyond the perimeter walls. Around him, members of the Reaper’s Force moved in disciplined patterns, coming and going with the efficiency of a military unit rather than a criminal organization. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was their main base. There were barely any members of the Wild Hounds left around the compound, even though this had once been their headquarters and favorite place to hang out when they weren’t on assignments. Since the Reaper’s Force had taken over operations, however, most of the Wild Hounds had relocated to their other branches, giving the Reaper’s Force room to work without constantly getting in each other’s way. The low growl of an approaching engine drew Tractor’s attention.

A sleek black van rolled through the gates, its tires crunching softly against the gravel as it pulled to a sudden halt directly in front of him.

Before the engine had even cut off, the doors burst open. Two men dressed in dark tactical military gear jumped out and hurried to the back. Within seconds, they were pulling out a folding stretcher and wheeling it toward the building.

Lying on it was an unconscious man who looked completely drenched from head to toe. His clothes clung heavily to his body. Water still dripped from the sleeves of his shirt and pooled beneath the wheels of the stretcher as it moved. His skin had an unhealthy grayish pallor, and his dark hair was plastered to his forehead and temples. Bruises covered parts of his face, while his lips carried a faint bluish tint from prolonged exposure to cold water. He looked like a drowned corpse that had been dragged back from the ocean.

"Are you sure he is still alive?" Tractor demanded, stepping up to the stretcher with one heavy brow raised.

"Yes, sir," one of the men pushing the stretcher replied, breathing hard as they continued moving. "But barely. Thank goodness we got to him when we did. A few minutes later, and he would’ve been shark bait."

Several nearby operatives stopped what they were doing to stare as the stretcher rapidly passed through the compound. It was no different when they cleared the main entrance. For a brief moment, the headquarters broke into chaos. Operatives, mechanics, and off-duty guards stopped in their tracks, turning to stare as the commotion echoed through the metallic hallways. However, it didn’t last long. They quickly returned to whatever they had been doing, because this wasn’t exactly an unusual to them. They had seen injured people brought in before, and everyone knew better than to stop working unless there was a real reason to.

Near the upper catwalk, Rose leaned over the railing, her sharp eyes tracking the stretcher with a furrowed brow, silently wondering who the unconscious man was and why he had been brought into their safehouse. What the hell was that? Is that thing even still alive?

Tractor and the two operatives pushing the stretcher ignored the curiosity that followed them.

"Take him straight to the basement level!" Tractor ordered. The men immediately changed direction, picking up their pace and forcing Tractor to do the same as he kept alongside the moving stretcher. He turned his head toward the lead operative. "What about the vehicle?"

"It’s being pulled out right now," another operative answered. "The recovery team is towing it from the ocean as we speak."

"Good," Tractor grunted. "Get him down to the basement and have Doctor Reyes do what he knows best. If we’re lucky, he’ll still be alive when it’s time to testify."

The operatives acknowledged the order and continued pushing the stretcher toward the restricted lower levels. Unlike most criminal organizations, the Reaper’s Force operated with an infrastructure that rivaled private military companies. Their headquarters contained its own medical wing, armory, surveillance center, interrogation rooms, and emergency response units. Trauma doctors, engineers, intelligence analysts, and former military specialists worked alongside combat operatives. It was one of the many reasons the organization had become so difficult to challenge. Just as the operatives wheeled the unconscious man down the elevator toward the basement, Tractor’s phone began to vibrate violently in his pocket. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the device. The moment he saw the caller ID, one eyebrow rose, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Well, look at that. Leo’s baby boy."

He answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear. "Hello, Leo’s baby boy," Tractor said, beginning to walk toward the main entrance.

"What’s up?"

The amused smirk faded into a serious line as he listened attentively to the voice on the other end of the line. His expression grew increasingly serious as he absorbed the report. By the time Marcus finished explaining what had happened on their end, the trauma team had already taken over in the basement. Two nurses wheeled the stretcher into the medical bay while Doctor Reyes moved alongside them, giving rapid instructions as another nurse prepared the equipment. The moment they reached the treatment area, the nurses transferred the unconscious man from the stretcher onto the medical table, immediately surrounding him as they began cutting away his soaked clothing.

"Damn. I didn’t think the prince would make it that difficult for you." Tractor paused, watching through the wire-glass window of the basement doors as Doctor Reyes and the two nurses worked over the half-drowned survivor. Reyes leaned over the man’s chest, pressing two fingers against his neck to check his pulse before immediately reaching for his stethoscope.

"All right, you guys did good," Tractor said after listening for several seconds. "We can’t exactly call it a failed mission since you even made it into the room. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting that, and we should’ve known it was going to be difficult to stay close to the Reaper with that many people guarding him like that. But it’s still all good. Since they’ve doubled the security, just keep your eyes on the perimeter. If anyone makes a move against the Reaper tonight, they’re going to try to take out the guards first. Even Prince Basil wouldn’t be completely safe if that happens."

Marcus said something that made Tractor’s brows draw together. "The assignment was to stay close to him. You guys can do that by keeping watch around the hospital and monitoring everyone going in and out. You don’t necessarily have to be inside the room," Tractor replied. "But we need to add more people to this plan. One of our people at the hospital will be keeping an eye on the ICU entrance. Just make sure you guys are ready whenever they alert you to any movement. Nobody gets inside the Reaper’s room tonight, not even the medical staff. Assassins often disguise themselves as medical personnel, so even if someone is cleared to enter, don’t let them inside until tomorrow. For all we know, the Architect might also have their own people in the hospital."

Tractor’s gaze shifted through the glass toward the medical bay when the heart monitor suddenly gave a sharp, uneven beep before settling back into its weak rhythm. Doctor Reyes immediately moved to the unconscious man’s side, checking the oxygen mask and adjusting its position to make sure it was delivering properly. He watched the man’s chest for several seconds, making sure it was rising and falling, then checked the monitor and the blood pressure reading before giving the nurse a quick instruction. His movements remained controlled despite the urgency in the room. One of the nurses frantically prepared the IV, tearing open the sterile packaging and inserting the IV catheter into a vein before securing it in place with tape. She connected the tubing, opened the flow, and checked the line to make sure the fluid was running properly while the second nurse continued monitoring the patient’s vital signs.

"Good." Tractor gave a short grunt after Marcus responded. "I’ll be waiting for some good news."

He ended the call and lowered the phone, staring at the dark screen for a moment before slipping it back into his pocket. His expression remained thoughtful as he turned toward the basement medical bay, watching the heart monitor flicker with a weak, irregular rhythm.

A few moments later, the medical bay doors opened, and Doctor Reyes stepped out. He pulled off his gloves as he walked toward Tractor, a small smile appearing on his face as he approached.

"That was one lucky save."

Tractor’ turned toward the doctor. "Can you keep him alive?"

Reyes gave him a knowing look. "Don’t worry. The man isn’t dying anytime soon. He’s in critical condition, but he’s stable for now. I’ll keep him unconscious until the Reaper wakes up."

"Hmmm," Tractor hummed, his gaze shifting to the unconscious man.