novelraw Chapter 263: Eyes met!!
Chapter 263: Eyes met!!
The black van sped through the wet streets of Paris, its tires cutting through puddles as it took a sharp left turn into a quieter part of the city. The buildings thinned out, replaced by broken walls, rusted gates, and forgotten structures.
Monica’s voice came through the line, precise and calm.
"The van just took a left toward an abandoned hospital. That is a perfect spot for them. I am sending you the coordinates now."
Ghost’s eyes narrowed as he watched the road ahead.
"Thanks. I will take it from here."
Marcel, sitting behind the wheel, did not ask who was on the call. He had worked with Ghost long enough to understand that questions were unnecessary.
Ghost leaned slightly forward.
"Turn left."
The car moved instantly.
Within minutes, they reached the area. The abandoned hospital stood like a corpse of concrete and steel, its broken windows staring blankly into the grey sky. The place carried an eerie silence, disturbed only by the faint echo of rain hitting cracked surfaces.
"Stop here."
Marcel parked the car at a distance, partially hidden behind a collapsed wall.
Ghost opened the door and stepped out, his gaze fixed on the building.
"Give me a gun."
Marcel turned toward him, slightly surprised.
"A gun? Let me come with you, lead."
Ghost shook his head slowly.
"Thanks, Marcel."
His tone was calm but firm.
"This is not Graveyard work. It is personal."
He looked at him directly.
"I cannot expose you to danger. You are an important asset here."
He extended his hand.
"Give me the gun."
Marcel hesitated for a brief moment before nodding.
"Understood."
He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a small case. Inside lay a handgun, clean and ready, along with three loaded magazines.
Ghost took them, checking the weapon with practiced ease before sliding it into place.
"Stay here. Wait for me."
Marcel nodded.
"Alright. Take care, lead."
Without another word, Ghost moved.
He sprinted lightly, then jumped over the boundary wall of the hospital with fluid precision. His hoodie covered half his face, blending him into the shadows.
He landed silently.
No noise.
No hesitation.
He slipped into a bush near the entrance, crouching low as his sharp eyes scanned the surroundings.
The hospital was quiet.
Too quiet.
Broken corridors stretched into darkness. Rusted equipment lay scattered. The smell of damp concrete mixed with decay filled the air.
Ghost slowed his breathing.
Analyzing.
Counting.
Listening.
Every movement inside mattered now.
...
Somewhere else in Paris.
A telephone rang.
A man sitting behind a polished desk picked it up.
"Hello?"
The voice on the other side came immediately.
Cold.
Direct.
"Your daughter will not return home today."
The man froze.
"What... who are you?"
His voice trembled slightly.
"What are you talking about?"
The voice laughed softly.
"You heard me."
A pause.
"Poor girl was praying at her mother’s grave."
Another chuckle followed.
"What kind of father sends his child alone to a graveyard?"
The man’s hand tightened around the receiver.
"You are lying."
The voice turned sharper.
"I am not here to prove anything."
A brief silence.
"Turn on the news."
The man’s breathing grew heavy as he reached for the remote and turned on the television.
The screen flickered.
Breaking news flashed.
A reporter stood in front of the graveyard.
"Moments ago, a shocking incident took place in a Paris graveyard. According to witnesses, five masked men armed with assault rifles entered the area and began firing in the air, causing panic among civilians."
The man stared at the screen, his face draining of color.
The reporter continued.
"They abducted a teenage girl and fled in a van. Fortunately, no casualties have been reported. Authorities are currently investigating the identity of the victim and the motive behind this attack."
The television went silent.
The man turned it off slowly.
His hands were shaking now.
"What do you want?"
The voice returned, colder than before.
"What else would I want?"
A pause.
"I have your daughter."
The man’s voice broke.
"You... you cannot..."
The voice cut him off.
"You have one hour."
A threat laced every word.
"No police involvement."
A short silence.
"Or your daughter will be buried next to your wife."
The man’s eyes widened.
"I want that pager."
The man stiffened instantly.
"That... I cannot give that."
His voice turned desperate.
"Ask for anything else. Money... I will give you money."
The voice laughed.
A dark, cruel laugh.
"I will take it."
The man swallowed hard.
"How much?"
The voice spoke slowly, almost enjoying the moment.
"Let me think."
A pause.
"One million US dollars."
Another pause.
"And I will return your daughter’s head."
Silence filled the room.
The man’s breathing grew uneven.
"You like that offer?"
The voice mocked him.
"Do not act smart, old man."
The tone dropped into something dangerous.
"Bring me the pager."
"Westfield Mall."
"Your daughter will return home after the transaction."
A final warning followed.
"Remember. No police."
A sharp pause.
"Or your daughter dies."
The man tried to steady himself.
"I understand."
His voice shook.
"But the mall is far from here."
The reply came instantly.
"One hour."
The line went dead.
The man stood frozen for a moment.
Then suddenly moved.
He rushed toward a hidden safe behind a painting, his hands trembling as he unlocked it.
Inside...
Lay secrets far more valuable than money.
And one device...
That could decide everything.
.....
The abandoned hospital stood in silence, its broken walls and shattered windows whispering stories of a past long forgotten. Trapped rainwater dripped steadily from the cracked ceilings, forming small puddles on the dusty floor. The air smelled of damp concrete, rust, and decay.
From the outside, it looked empty.
But it wasn’t.
Ghost observed carefully from his position. There was no visible guard patrolling the outer perimeter, no movement near the broken gates. Only one armed man stood at the entrance, lazily holding his rifle, unaware of the storm that had already entered his territory.
Ghost moved.
With slow, controlled steps, he climbed through a shattered window and slipped inside the building. His landing was silent, almost unreal, as if he had become part of the shadows themselves.
Inside, the hospital felt dead.
Dust floated in the air.
Spider webs stretched across corners like thin veils.
Ghost brushed one aside as he moved forward, each step measured, each breath steady.
Then
Footsteps.
He stopped instantly.
His body pressed against the corner of a wall in a narrow corridor.
The sound grew louder.
Closer.
A man approached, his boots echoing faintly in the empty hallway. The armed guard walked casually, unaware, his rifle hanging loosely as he turned toward the corner.
Ghost remained still.
Invisible.
The man stepped forward.
Now directly in front of him.
His gaze faced forward.
Ghost stood just to his left.
The man turned
A flash.
A whisper of steel.
A sharp, precise motion.
The knife slid across his throat before he could even react.
A faint choking sound escaped him as blood spilled instantly. His body collapsed without resistance.
Ghost caught him.
Lowered him silently.
Then pulled the body back into the shadows, hiding it from view.
No noise.
No trace.
He moved again.
...
On the other side of the city, traffic did not slow Chloe’s father.
He rode a bike through the busy streets, his helmet hiding his face, his hands gripping tightly as he weaved through traffic with urgency.
Every second mattered.
"Hold on, Chloe..."
His voice was barely audible beneath the roar of the engine and rain.
"I am coming."
...
Back inside the hospital, Ghost advanced deeper into the building.
His senses were heightened.
Every sound mattered.
Then
Voices.
Faint at first.
Then clearer.
He stopped near a cracked wall, listening carefully.
"I am going to the mall."
One man spoke.
"The police will definitely trace the CCTV trail here."
Another voice responded.
"So within one hour, we evacuate."
The first man continued.
"Wait for my order... then kill the girl."
A cold silence followed.
Then
"Understood."
Ghost’s eyes darkened.
A man walked out from the room, heading toward the exit.
Ghost calculated quickly.
Five men at the graveyard.
One dead at the gate.
One heading to the mall.
Three left inside.
One is dead. If no others, three remain.
He pulled out his phone and typed something quickly.
The message was sent to Marcel.
Moments later, another man stepped out of the room, pulling off his mask.
"I have tied her up."
He smirked.
"She is a tough girl."
Another man removed his mask as well.
"Teenage girl... rebellious blood."
Ghost’s eyes captured everything.
He took silent pictures of both men.
Faces.
Expressions.
Evidence.
Then one of them spoke again.
"Do you have a lighter?"
The other shook his head.
"No. The one at the gate has it."
The first man sighed.
"Let’s go then."
A slight hesitation.
"But..."
"She is tied up."
They both walked toward the exit, heading outside for a smoke.
Ghost watched them leave.
This was it.
The perfect moment.
No hesitation.
He moved.
Swift.
Silent.
He reached the door and carefully unbolted it, ensuring it made no sound.
Then he pushed it open.
Inside
Dim light.
A broken room.
And there she was.
Chloe.
Sitting at the corner.
Her hands tied tightly to a heavy piece of furniture.
A cloth stuffed into her mouth.
Her eyes wide with fear.
The moment she saw him
She froze.
She couldn’t recognize him.
Not with the hood.
Not in this darkness.
Fear only deepened in her eyes.
Ghost rushed forward immediately.
He knelt in front of her.
His voice lowered.
Soft.
"Chloe... don’t worry."
His hands moved quickly, untying the ropes.
"We are getting out of here."
He removed the cloth from her mouth.
She gasped softly, finally able to breathe properly.
Then
She looked up.
Their eyes met.
And everything stopped.
For a moment...
There was no danger.
No mission.
No chaos.
Only recognition.
She knew.
Instantly.