Chapter 34: Crossfire

The first gunshot changed everything.

One moment, the quarry had been a tense standoff.

Then next, it became a battlefield.

Kepha Gaya's man collapsed instantly.

A crimson stain spread across his chest before he hit the ground.

Then came the second shot.

Another.

And another.

The echoes bounced off the quarry walls like thunder.

"DOWN!"

David Pilka tackled Alex behind a large boulder.

Bullets immediately struck the rock.

Fragments exploded into the air.

Alex felt sharp pieces cut his cheek.

"Who are they?" he shouted.

David's face was grim.

"The people nobody wants to meet."

Across the quarry, Kepha's men scrambled for cover.

Their discipline immediately became apparent.

No panic.

No confusion.

They moved with military precision.

Returning fire.

Communicating through hand signals.

Trying to locate the attackers.

But the shooters remained invisible.

Whoever they were, they had chosen their positions carefully.

High ground.

Excellent visibility.

Excellent cover.

A professional ambush.

Kepha ducked behind a concrete barrier.

His expression was murderous.

Then he glanced toward David.

For a brief second, their eyes met.

And something remarkable happened.

The hatred disappeared.

Not permanently.

Temporarily.

Because both men understood something.

If they didn't survive the next ten minutes, their unfinished arguments wouldn't matter.

Several kilometers away, Obadiah's convoy accelerated.

The gunfire reports had reached them through security channels.

The billionaire's face darkened.

The quarry was no longer merely a meeting point.

It was becoming a kill zone.

Patricia sat rigidly in her seat.

Every gunshot report felt like a knife.

Alex was there.

David was there.

And now, unknown shooters had joined the game.

"How far?"

The security chief checked the navigation.

"Eight minutes."

Patricia nearly screamed.

Eight minutes suddenly felt like an eternity.

Meanwhile, at the old family house, Alison finally succeeded.

The metal chest clicked open.

For a moment, she simply stared.

Then slowly lifted the lid.

Inside sat dozens of documents.

Photographs.

Letters.

Hospital records.

Birth certificates.

Medical forms.

Years of secrets carefully hidden.

Her pulse quickened.

Then she noticed an envelope.

Unlike everything else, it carried handwriting.

Simple handwriting.

One line.

For Alison and Patricia.

The lawyer froze.

Her hands trembled.

Because she immediately recognized the writing.

Mercy's.

Back at the quarry, Alex risked a glance.

The attackers remained hidden.

Yet they were incredibly effective.

Two more of Kepha's men had fallen.

The survivors were pinned down.

Unable to advance.

Unable to retreat.

Then David suddenly grabbed Alex's shoulder.

"Listen carefully."

"What?"

"If something happens—"

"No."

David ignored him.

"If something happens, you find Patricia."

Alex's stomach tightened.

The older man's tone sounded wrong.

Too final.

Too resigned.

"David—"

"Promise me."

Another bullet struck nearby.

David barely reacted.

His attention remained fixed on Alex.

"Promise me."

Reluctantly, Alex nodded.

The older man seemed satisfied.

Then he reached into his jacket.

And removed a flash drive.

A small black flash drive.

Worn.

Scratched.

Old.

Yet somehow terrifying.

"What is that?"

David stared at it.

"The reason people keep dying."

Elsewhere, Chief Inspector Bethwel Kanda's convoy approached from the opposite side of the quarry.

The officer had heard the gunfire from several kilometers away.

His expression hardened.

This was escalating beyond a criminal investigation.

This was war.

His phone rang.

The detective from headquarters.

"Sir."

"What now?"

The detective sounded breathless.

"We identified the second woman admitted alongside Grace Akinyi."

Bethwel gripped the phone tighter.

"Who was she?"

The answer came immediately.

"Mercy Wao."

The inspector almost slammed on the brakes.

"What?"

The detective continued.

"Same hospital."

"Same night."

"Same maternity ward."

Bethwel felt cold.

Very cold.

Because suddenly dozens of disconnected pieces were beginning to fit together.

Grace.

Mercy.

Patricia.

Alison.

The babies.

Everything.

Then the detective added one final sentence.

A sentence that made Bethwel's blood run cold.

"Sir... according to the records, Mercy gave birth that night too."

At the quarry, another gunshot rang out.

This one was different.

Closer.

Much closer.

David suddenly staggered.

Alex's eyes widened.

For a second, he didn't understand.

Then he saw the blood.

A dark stain spreading across David's shoulder.

The older man fell to one knee.

"No!"

David grabbed Alex's arm.

Hard.

Hard enough to hurt.

"Take it."

He shoved the flash drive into Alex's hand.

"David—"

"Take it!"

The roar in his voice shocked Alex into silence.

Then David looked directly into his eyes.

And for the first time since they met...

Fear appeared.

Not fear for himself.

Fear for someone else.

"Whatever happens..."

His voice dropped.

"...don't let Patricia open the final file alone."

Alex froze.

"What final file?"

David's face turned pale.

Another gunshot cracked through the air.

Then he whispered five words.

Words that changed everything.

"The fourth child is Patricia."

The world stopped.

Alex stared.

Unable to breathe.

Unable to think.

Unable to process what he had just heard.

Patricia was already one of the babies.

Sarah Waore.

The child everyone had been searching for.

So what did David mean?

Before Alex could ask—

A massive explosion erupted near the quarry entrance.

Fire shot into the sky.

Vehicles flipped.

Dust engulfed everything.

Screams echoed through the valley.

And somewhere within the chaos, a new voice rang out through a loudspeaker.

A voice that instantly silenced everyone.

A voice Fiona recognized.

A voice David recognized.

A voice Kepha recognized.

A voice the mastermind feared more than any other.

"Nobody move."

The voice echoed across the quarry.

Cold.

Controlled.

Deadly.

Then came the name.

The name nobody had spoken in twenty-six years.

"My name is Joel Aliet."