Chapter 5 Cute Baby Strikes
Lena hadn't come back to the old house yet.
The night was deep, and the courtyard lights swayed gently in the wind, casting a faint glow.
Three kids were gathered around the coffee table in the center of the living room.
Spread out before them were a notebook and a hand-drawn map they had just found in Lena's study, along with an electronic locator.
Max held a tablet, his expression calm, fingers flying across the screen.
"Mom said to wait until she gets back so we can go together," Jade frowned. "Why are you hacking Zoe's real-time coordinates now?"
Max's tone was steady, "Mom went to the old district. It'll take at least an hour for her to get back."
"An hour is too long," Liam said softly, worry flashing in her eyes. "What if something happens to Zoe?"
He flicked open the small knife hidden in his sleeve, twirled it twice, and snapped it back.
The three were silent for a few seconds before Max spoke first, "Even though I don't agree with acting rashly, if it's just to check on Zoe's safety, I think it's doable."
"Agreed," Jade's eyes gleamed with determination. "I can go pretending to be a delivery person."
"I'll disguise myself as a beggar," Liam chimed in immediately, "and bring a needle."
"I'll monitor from the rear," Max said, looking up. "You can't take more than fifteen minutes."
The area around the abandoned warehouse in the East District was eerily quiet.
As they got out of the car, Max quickly set up a short-frequency communication network, connecting the three of them via earpieces.
"Monitoring equipment is activated, signal entering the shielded zone. I'll stay at a high point for remote support."
"Got it," Jade put on a worn-out baseball cap, carrying a delivery box, and slipped in through the side door.
The warehouse lights were dim.
Jade moved along the wall, his gaze sweeping over one shelf after another, until he saw a familiar figure in the closed-off area in the southwest corner.
It was Zoe.
She was sitting on the ground, motionless, holding a plush bunny toy, silent and still like a little statue.
There was no one around her.
But it was too unusual.
"Zoe is at the far south end, no one guarding her," Jade tiptoed, his small hand gripping the edge of a rusty metal cabinet, ignoring the dust on his nose.
"Too strange, doesn't look like signs of evacuation," Max responded immediately. "Could be bait."
"A trap!" Jade stuffed his slingshot back into her pocket, her voice low and urgent. "But Zoe is inside..."
"I'll go," Liam's figure in overalls moving like a nimble squirrel. "I'm fast, won't get caught."
"Liam, wait—"
But he had already darted out.
Liam moved swiftly, like a small animal, weaving through the iron racks and slipping into the enclosed area.
In a corner piled with flour sacks, he found Zoe, who had been missing for three days.
Zoe was sitting there, hugging her knees, her favorite strawberry hair clip crooked in her messy hair, clutching a dirty rag doll.
"Zoe," Liam called softly.
Zoe lifted her head, her eyes vacant, as if she hadn't heard.
"It's me, I'm Liam."
Zoe slowly raised her head, her big eyes empty. Her treasured pink backpack was open, with several broken rainbow crayons inside.
"Come on, let's go home," Liam reached out to pull her.
But at that moment—
A faint sound came from behind.
Liam turned sharply, a chill running up her spine.
He instinctively pressed Zoe to his chest.
Several figures in black emerged from the shadows, silently surrounding them.
"Don't move."
The leader wore a mask, his face obscured.
A hand in a black leather glove reached out, precisely gripping Liam's wrist.
The force wasn't strong, but it felt like iron shackles, impossible to break free.
The leather of the glove had a matte finish in the dim light, the metal buckle at the knuckles glinting coldly.
Liam held Zoe tightly, his gaze fixed fiercely on the nearest person.
"Who are you?" he asked, her voice sounding somewhat hoarse.
Liam's eyes widened suddenly.
He looked at the person—his stance, the slight tilt of his head, was exactly like Max when he scolded them.
His gaze slowly moved down, landing on the man's left ring finger.
There was a black and gold ring, the face engraved with a tiny snake totem.
He had seen that totem before.
On Max's portable hard drive, he had told them it was one of the things left by their father.
When the man turned sideways, his arm pressed back for a moment, the sleeve slipping, revealing a slender, cold white wrist—thin, pale, with distinct bones, very similar to Max's.
Too similar.
An instinctive feeling rose in his chest. Liam bit her lip, maintaining a protective stance, standing in front of Zoe and looking up at the masked man with black gloves.
"Do you... have a family?"
The man paused, didn't answer.
"I... I'm not sure," Liam seemed to be talking to herself, or probing. "The four of us siblings were raised by our mom. She said something happened when we were little, so Dad left. We don't know who he is, not even a single photo."
He looked up, staring at the man's mask, his voice very low, "But my mom said he was a bad person."
The warehouse was eerily quiet at that moment.
The man's hand tightened suddenly, his fingertips unconsciously curling.
He couldn't see Liam's expression, only felt a strange emotion in his tone.
Not grievance, not accusation.
A kind of... cautious expectation.
"Your ring..." Liam paused, then spoke slowly, "It looks a lot like my brother's. He also likes to tap his knuckles with his index finger, think quietly when it's silent, and frown only on one side. You seem to be the same."
"You've got the wrong person."
The man's voice was devoid of any emotion, like a bucket of ice water in the cold night, mercilessly extinguishing the warmth in his eyes.
"I don't know you, and I've never met your brother."
He looked down, glancing at her from above, his gaze cold even through the mask.
"And unfortunately, I don't have children, nor have I been involved with any woman. Are you... trained bait?"
"Or did someone teach you to say these things, specifically to break my defenses?"
Each word cut like a knife through bone.
Liam seemed nailed to the spot, his face turning pale, his lips moving, but no words came out.
The man seemed to have lost all patience, turning to the other black-clad figures and speaking in a low voice, "Take them back for re-examination. If they dare to talk back, deal with them immediately."