Chapter 420 Return to the Fortress

The mission had been clear–take Johnathan alive. But now, it was falling apart.

They’d gone to great lengths to orchestrate this ambush. If not for that fleeting moment when his guard was down, they never could’ve subdued someone like him.

"Think of something else,” the other man said through clenched teeth.

Failure wasn’t an option. If they went back empty-handed, death awaited them.

He glanced at Johnathan, still lying motionless on the floor. A flicker of violence flashed in his eyes.

If they’d only needed him dead, this would’ve been over by now.

All because he had to be taken alive.

He wanted to kill him right then and there–but the punishment for disobedience terrified him more. So instead, he vented his rage with a punch–straight to Johnathan’s injured ribs.

Ordinary men would’ve cried out, but not Johnathan. He didn’t move, didn’t even flinch.

He was awake. The drug dose had been heavy, but his body had been conditioned against chemical agents. He’d started regaining awareness a while ago, but with limp limbs and two armed men, he’d opted to stay still.

The pain was excruciating–especially the blow to his ribs, which had barely begun to heal. But he endured it in silence, knowing any reaction could give him away.

As his senses returned, Johnathan rapidly assessed the situation.

He hadn’t expected he was the target–but realizing it now, he felt a strange sense of relief.

If they were after him, Sierra was safe.

He heard the two men start talking.

“I’ll create a diversion. When the coast clears, you slip out with him.”

If they could get past the campus perimeter, reinforcements would take over.

“Got it,”

No hesitation. Failure meant death for both of them. They split up at once.

The moment chaos broke out in the building, the second man lifted Johnathan onto his back.

He was shorter and smaller than Johnathan, and carrying him was clearly a strain. But he moved fast. This was their one chance.

He was nearly in the clear–just past the final group of students–when he felt something clamp tight around his neck.

Pain stabbed into the side of his neck, and an arm locked around his throat like a vice. His breathing faltered instantly.

Time dragged on. The campus was still locked down, and tensions were rising. People began murmuring complaints. Even Sierra couldn’t sit still anymore.

Over two hours had passed since Johnathan disappeared.

Every second mattered. Every second could mean danger.

Even though her rational mind told her he’d be fine, her heart twisted with dread.

Then, Maddox got a call.

He stood abruptly. “We found him.”

Sierra turned to him at once.

“He’s okay,” Maddox added quickly.

Moments later, Johnathan was wheeled in on a stretcher.

The sight of him lying there made Sierra’s heart seize.

But Johnathan, still conscious, saw her pale face and immediately explained, “I’m fine. The drug hasn’t worn off yet, that’s all–walking’s still rough.”

Sierra opened her mouth, but all she could manage was, “Don’t talk. Just rest.”

She, Mateo, and the others followed him to the hospital.

The hospital had been alerted ahead of time. As soon as Johnathan arrived, they performed a full-body scan.

The results, all things considered, were decent.

He’d only been injected with a high-dose tranquilizer, which hadn’t fully metabolized yet.

The bigger problem was his ribs–new fractures right where the old injury was still healing. This time, the recovery would take much longer.

Hearing that he was otherwise fine, Sierra finally exhaled.

His hospital room was now full–Maddox, Mateo, even Wayne and Chase had arrived.

Once Wayne confirmed Johnathan was stable, he made the call immediately: Johnathan would be moved back to the Wynn estate.

The old manor had its own medical team and cutting-edge equipment–every bit as good as the hospital. More importantly, it was secure.

Wayne didn’t wait for discussion. He looked at his grandson firmly.

“I know how stubborn you are. But now is not the time for that.”

“This time, you’re listening to me.”

Johnathan gave a tired smile. “I wasn’t going to argue, Grandpa.”