Chapter 125
Chapter 125:
A suppressed crack echoed from the top of the rusted crane looming overhead. From his perch, the lead marksman on Dallas’s team watched the target stumble, the angle for a clean headshot vanishing in an instant. The man was flailing — a danger to the hostage. He took the only shot available: a high-risk disabling strike to the shoulder holding the weapon.
The bullet struck Jared and spun him violently. The impact threw him backward, off balance — but his hand was still tangled in the ropes binding Eliza’s arms.
“No!” Dallas yelled, sprinting across the concrete.
Jared fell backward over the edge of the rotted dock. And he took Eliza with him.
“Dallas!” Eliza screamed, the sound tearing from her throat.
𝗠o𝗌𝘵 𝘳е𝗮𝘥 𝘵𝗵𝗂s 𝗐𝗲𝗲k о𝗇
Splash.
They hit the black, freezing water with a bone-jarring impact.
Dallas didn’t break stride. He reached the edge of the dock and dove into the darkness without a moment’s hesitation.
Anson scrambled to the edge and peered into the void, paralyzed. “Eliza!” he shouted — but his feet stayed planted on the safety of the concrete.
Underwater, the world became chaos. The cold was a physical assault, a thousand needles driving into Dallas’s skin all at once. It was pitch black.
He forced his eyes open, salt stinging them, waiting for them to adjust. He saw the thrash of bubbles.
Eliza was sinking. The weight of her soaked clothes and the ropes dragged her steadily downward. Jared, bleeding and panicked, was kicking against her, using her body as a raft to keep himself afloat.
Dallas drove himself downward, his powerful strokes cutting through the current. Rage fueled him. Oxygen was a luxury. Reaching her was not.
He tackled Jared — seized the man by the throat and wrenched him away. Jared struck out in desperation, but Dallas was a force beyond stopping. He delivered a single, brutal strike to Jared’s temple. The man went limp and began to sink into the dark.
Dallas turned to Eliza. She was barely thrashing now. Her eyes were wide, staring into the void. A thin stream of bubbles escaped her lips — her last breath.
He reached her. He pulled the tactical knife from his ankle sheath and cut — precise, desperate slashes through the ropes at her wrists and the cord at her ankles.
She didn’t move. Her eyes drifted shut. Her mouth opened, drawing in water.
Dallas grabbed her waist, pulled her flush against him, and kicked hard for the surface, his lungs burning as though filled with acid.
Don’t you dare die. Don’t you dare.
They broke the surface. Dallas gasped, air rushing into his starved lungs. He choked, spitting saltwater.
“I’ve got you,” he rasped, holding her head above the water. She was limp in his arms, heavy and cold.
He swam to the rusted iron ladder on the side of the pier. His security chief was already there, reaching down. He hauled Eliza up by her jacket and laid her onto the dock. Dallas pulled himself up and collapsed beside her.
“She’s not breathing!” Anson yelled, hovering over her, his hands uselessly flapping.
Dallas shoved him hard in the chest. “Back off p>
He positioned himself over Eliza, tilted her head back, and cleared her airway. He interlocked his hands over her sternum.
“Come on, Eliza,” he growled. “Breathe p>