Late at night, the police station office was illuminated only by the eerie glow of aputer screen. It disyed Jameson''s interview after his bail.


    Nichs, haggard-looking, stared at the screen. An overflowing ashtray sat beside him.


    He pursed his lips, his trembling fingers dialing Jameson''s number. To his surprise, it was engaged. Despair clenched his heart as he gripped the phone tighter.


    Nichs slumped on the couch, his eyes squeezed shut. Throughout his lifetime, he had faced horrors untold, his hands stained with the blood of many. Yet, none of it prepared him for the soul-crushing despair that threatened to consume him now. This was the darkest night of his life.


    Four agonizing days passed in this state. Then, one night, his phone rang. It was Natalie''s doctor.


    "Mr. Novak, your wife had a sudden episode! She''s unstable. Pleasee to the hospital immediately!"


    "Is she okay?" Nichs shot up, grabbing his coat and rushing toward the door.


    "Mrs. Novak is in the ER. We''ll discuss details when you arrive!"


    Nichs reached for the doorknob as the call ended. He hesitated, feeling the weight of a loaded gun in his pocket. It was a tempting deterrent, a promise of defense. But using it meant wading into a deeper swamp. Every shot, every bullet casing left behind, would be another clue for the police to follow, a neon sign pointing straight back to him and his tangled web of secrets with Jameson.


    Cyrus, a rising star in the force, reminded Nichs of his younger self. Given time, Cyrus would surely uncover their shady business.


    More importantly, hecked the stomach to defy Jameson; even if he had the courage, he couldn''t afford to do so.


    Jameson was a devil who wouldn''t blink at taking a life, and Nichs had known this partnership was a dance with the reaper from the outset.


    He was aware that his future was bleak. But he had no choice. His wife, his love, needed saving.ConTEent bel0ngs to N?v(e)lD/rama(.)Org .


    He turned back, retrieved a screwdriver from his desk, and hid it behind his back before hurrying out.


    Nichs sped toward the hospital in his ck SUV but screeched to a halt in a deserted alley. At the other end, a ck vehicle blocked his path.


    Four masked figures in ck emerged from the car. Twoid a spiked chain across the ground.


    Escape by car was clearly not an option; a single wrong move would leave him stranded with a chorus of popping tires.


    Nichs'' eyes zed with fury. He gritted his teeth, threw the car into reverse, and mmed on the elerator.


    A deafening crash echoed as his car rammed the vehicle behind him, blocking his escape. The narrow alley had be a cage, and he was the trapped prey. Realizing that escape was futile, Nichs stepped out, scowling at the approaching assassins. He reached behind his back, gripping the screwdriver tightly. "Chief Novak?" the leader rasped, his toneced with hostility.


    "Mr. Schmidt sent all of you, didn''t he?" Nichs'' temples throbbed. The question hung heavy in the air, a mere formality.


    The situation was dire. Though bailed out, Jameson was now a marked man and Jasper and Alyssa were determined to bring him down.


    Jameson was trapped, a fly caught in a web of enemies. Confronted by imminent danger, his primal survival instinct urged him to eliminate the threat-Nichs. Nichs understood Jameson''s ruthlessness, but tonight wasn''t the time for him to meet his end.


    "Who we work for is irrelevant," the leader smirked. "We''re aware of your capabilities. That''s why we came to you. We wouldn''t be here unless we have the guts and muscles to back it up. Cooperate, and your end will be swift."


    "We''ll settle this, but not now," Nichs pleaded, his voiceced with urgency. "My wife''s critically ill. I need to be at the hospital."


    "Such devotion, Chief Novak. It''s a pity our employer wants you dead regardless. Take him down!"


    The assassins charged at Nichs.


    This dark, windy, and silent night would be the night of his death. They shed at Nichs with their des, one after another, but they missed. Amidst the howling wind, the terrifying sounds of punches and kicks echoed.


    Nichs, a seasoned officer, fought with the desperation of a cornered animal. Age, however, was a cruel mistress slowing his reflexes just enough for a de to find its mark. A searing pain erupted in his left arm as a knife sliced deep, bone glinting in the pale light.


    Another glint, this time of a de, hurled right at his face. There was no time to dodge.


    But the de never connected; it hung suspended, inches from his eyes. A scream then tore through the night as the de ttered to the ground, followed by a sickening snap of a broken wrist.


    There, bathed in the cold moonlight, stood Jasper. He was a mountain of a man, his stance radiating an unshakeable resolve.


    Their eyes met, Jasper''s dark and fiery. He extended a hand to help Nichs up. "Are you alright?"


    Nichs held his breath in awe, his pain momentarily forgotten. At that moment, Jasper resembled an angel who had descended from the heavens. He exuded an atmosphere of sheer power and intimidation. "That''s... Jasper Beckett! The Beckett Group''s president!" one of the assassins stammered, his voiceced with shock.


    Panic flickered in their eyes. This wasn''t part of the n.


    "We won''t get paid if we don''t finish this!" the leader snarled. "It doesn''t matter who he is. Kill them both! No one leaves here alive!"


    The assassins, their initial surprise reced by grim determination, closed the distance.


    "Run!" Nichs roared at Jasper.


    But Jasper remained calm, a steely glint in his eyes as he surveyed the scene.


    "You''re a cop, and I''m an ex-soldier. It appears we both have a duty tonight. Let''s prove we don''t back down from evil, officer."