They left a pregnant woman hanging precariously from a cliff, but when Daniel arrived to rescue her, his stepmother cut the last rope.

The interior of the lead armored SUV was a stark contrast to the freezing, muddy forest. It was warm, lit by the red glow of tactical lights, and packed with high-tech communication equipment.

Daniel laid Valeria gently across the back seat. She was shivering, on the verge of total physical collapse, her eyes fluttering shut.

"Doc! Get in here, now!" Jax roared into his radio.

A lean woman in tactical gear carrying a heavy trauma bag climbed into the back seat. She didn't ask questions; she immediately went to work. She wrapped Valeria in a thick, heated thermal blanket, administered an IV of warm saline and broad-spectrum antibiotics, and then pulled out a portable ultrasound wand.

Daniel stood outside the open door, refusing to sit down. He watched the medic's face with agonizing intensity.

"She's severely dehydrated and hypothermic," the medic reported, her eyes glued to the small screen of the ultrasound. "Her heart rate is through the roof. But..."

She paused, moving the wand slightly.

"But what?" Daniel demanded, his hand gripping the door frame tightly.

"The baby is a fighter," the medic smiled faintly. "Strong heartbeat. Amniotic fluid levels are stable. No signs of placental abruption. You got lucky, Mr. Blackwood. But she needs real rest, or her body will force a premature delivery."

Daniel let out a breath he felt he had been holding for an eternity. "Keep her stable. No matter what happens outside this truck, you don't leave her side."

"Understood."

Daniel closed the heavy armored door, sealing Valeria in safety. He turned to face Jax, who was leaning against the hood of the SUV, inspecting a topographic map on a ruggedized tablet.

"You brought exactly what I asked for?" Daniel asked, his tone shifting from a desperate husband to a ruthless commander.

"Tier-one operators," Jax confirmed. "Ex-Delta, SAS, and French Foreign Legion. We've established a secure perimeter around the airfield. We have heavy munitions, encrypted comms, and two anti-materiel sniper rifles set up in the tree line. Whoever is hunting you is going to walk into a meat grinder."

"Don't underestimate them, Jax," Daniel warned, rolling his injured shoulder, wincing as the medic approached to finally strap his arm into a proper tactical brace. "They are called The Vanguard. They have infinite resources, military-grade tech, and they do not leave witnesses."

Jax chuckled, racking the bolt of his rifle. "Good. I was getting bored with corporate extraction jobs."

Daniel looked at the heavily armed men moving in the shadows. He had spent his entire adult life trying to distance himself from his father's ruthless, violent legacy. He had built a legitimate empire. But tonight, that legitimate world had burned down.

"They want my child," Daniel said, his voice echoing in the cold air, loud enough for the mercenaries nearby to hear. "They view my family as property. Tonight, we teach them that the Blackwood bloodline is not a commodity. It is a curse to anyone who crosses it."

Jax grinned, tapping his earpiece as a static voice came through the encrypted channel.

"Boss," Jax said, his smile fading into a professional, lethal glare. "Scout team two just reported in. The Vanguard chopper realized the tracker was a decoy. They've turned around. And they just brought company."

"How many?" Daniel asked, drawing a fresh magazine for his Glock.

"Three transport helicopters just breached the airspace," Jax reported. "They're vectoring straight for this airfield. We have incoming."