Chapter 3 - The Emergency ExtractionThe heavy steel padlock of the mastiff cage sprang open with a loud, satisfying metallic snap under the turn of the brass key. I pulled the iron door wide, dropping instantly to my knees in the dust and dampness to scoop Sofia’s frail, trembling body into my arms.
She weighed almost nothing. It felt as though I were lifting a bundle of broken branches rather than my living wife.
“I’ve got you, Sofia. I’ve got you,” I murmured repeatedly, pressing my lips to her matted hair as she let out a sharp, involuntary gasp of pain, her hands clutching tightly at her swollen stomach.
“John… the contractions… they’re too close together,” she whispered, her fingers digging desperately into the fabric of my jacket. “We… we aren't going to make it to the hospital in the city. It’s too far.”
She was right. The private estate was isolated deep in the countryside, forty-five minutes away from the nearest high-tier medical center. Bouncing over the rough gravel roads in a standard vehicle could cause catastrophic complications given her advanced state of malnutrition and exhaustion.
As I carried her carefully up the basement stairs and laid her down on the plush velvet sofa in the main parlor, I barked orders into my encrypted satellite phone.
“Marcus! Get the private medical transport chopper from the airfield stationed on the estate helipad immediately! Bring Dr. Vance and a full obstetric ICU team right now, or consider yourself a dead man!”
Within three minutes, the heavy thrum of rotor blades began to shake the reinforced glass windows of the mansion. A team of elite trauma medics, led by our trusted family physician Dr. Vance, burst through the front doors carrying portable incubators, IV lines, and emergency surgical gear.
Dr. Vance took one look at Sofia’s pale, sweat-slicked face and the severe emaciation of her frame, and his professional composure vanished, replaced by stark horror.
“Good God, John… what happened to her?” Dr. Vance demanded, immediately dropping to his knees beside the sofa to check her vitals.
“We don't have time for explanations, Doctor!” I shouted, my voice cutting through the chaos in the room. “She’s in premature labor, and her body is shutting down! Stabilize her on the chopper, and get her to the secure medical wing at headquarters right now!”
As the medical team lifted Sofia onto the specialized gurney and rushed her out toward the waiting helicopter, I turned around to find my mother standing at the edge of the parlor, watching the evacuation with a cold, unrepentant stare.
“You’re making a grave mistake bringing her back here, John,” Elena said coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. “That child will be a permanent reminder of weakness. If you let her live, the other clans will view you as compromised.”
I stopped in my tracks, slowly turning to face the woman who had raised me.
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“Listen to me very carefully,” I said, my voice dropping into a quiet, menacing register that made the armed guards standing near the door instinctively shift their weight. “You are no longer the matriarch of this estate. From this second forward, you are confined to the east wing. If you step foot outside your quarters, if you speak to a single servant, or if you even look in the direction of my wife or my son once he is born, I will banish you to a Siberian timber camp before sunrise. Your reign in this house is over.”
Without waiting for her reply, I turned and strode out the front doors, boarding the helicopter as it lifted off into the stormy night sky.
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