Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 73 – Rescue Mission

Victor and his team of three move stealthily through the woods. Victor takes the lead, crouching and

scanning the darkness, but all seems peaceful. The Betas creep quietly behind, rifles in their hands,

the night-vision sights pressed to their eyes. They move swiftly but carefully, taking no chances.

The team arrives at the Walsh property faster than Victor had expected. The team lays quietly in the

grass at the edge of the woods, watching the predicted patrols move around the house’s perimeter,

learning their patterns.

“This is taking too long,” Victor’s lead Beta whispers to him, “we need to move faster.”

“It takes as long as it takes,” Victor says, peering through a set of binoculars. “There,” he breathes,

pointing to the back of the house. “They’ve gone into the house, a change of guards at eleven, just as I

said.”

John Walsh is an old man, Victor thinks, smirking. Uncomfortable with change, he’s using an outdated

guarding system that Victor knows like the back of his hand, the kind of guard system that Victor’s

father used in his home when Victor was growing up. It’s effective, of course, unless your opponent

knows every detail of how it works, every c***k in its armor.

Which, of course, Victor does. He didn’t build the best Beta force in the country from scratch for

nothing.

“Let’s move.” As soon as Walsh’s Betas disappear into the house, Victor and his own rise to a crouch

and swiftly move across the yard. Unseen, they climb up the stairs of the terrace and press themselves

up against the wall on either side of the back door.

When the next shift of Walsh’s Betas emerge, Victor is ready for them. His own Betas grab the guards,

chloroform-soaked rags ready. There’s a muffled fight, and then the guards fall limp at their feet.

“In five minutes, their leader will see that they haven’t reported. The next step will be to send two more

guards after them. When they emerge, you’ll do the same thing to them,” Victor whispers, peering into

the house. “When they, too, fail to respond after five minutes, Walsh’s lead will raise the alarm.”

Victor’s Beta team nods, understanding. “That means we have ten minutes,” Victor says, “to get Evelyn

and get off the property. If I’m not back in that time, you run without me, or you’ll be shot.”

The team nods. They weren’t happy about this part of the plan, with their leader in the most vulnerable

position, but he forced them to agree. It’s a short timeline as well – perhaps too short – but they’re

committed. With that, Victor crouches and moves away from his team, scanning the wall for a place to

climb.

Victor and his team had spent hours, that afternoon, scanning the blueprints of Walsh’s home, trying to

determine the most likely place where Evelyn would be held. Victor had been well-prepared for this

kind of event, having obtained or commissioned blueprints of the homes of every important Alpha in the

country, as well as a handful of influential humans and Rogues.

His reconnaissance Betas, like his assault team, were top notch. Today, he’s grateful for the work that

he put into this kind of preparation, though sometimes it had felt like this level of preparation would

never turn out to be of any use.

Victor creeps along the wall, heading toward the side of the house, where the family’s personal

bedrooms are more likely to be. He’s aiming, in particular, for a small suite with a view of the lake,

which Evelyn had mentioned being able to see from her room as a child. It would align with Walsh’s

condescending view of his daughter, Victor thinks, to send her back to her childhood room, rather than

a guest room elsewhere on the property.

Peering up at the house, Victor sees the room’s bay window, which he had noted on the blueprints.

Perfect. He unhooks a rope with a small grappling hook from its place on his belt, spinning it in his

hands for momentum. As he tosses it up to stick to its spot on the second story, Victor prays, silently,

that his instincts are correct and that this is Evelyn’s room.

The hook sticks and Victor tugs on it, making sure it’s secure. When it proves true, Victor begins to pull

himself hand-over-hand up the rope, grateful that he’s kept in shape during these years of peace.

As he gets closer to the window, Victor abandons the rope, working his fingers into the grooves of the

sill to pull himself bodily upwards onto the house itself. His arms and shoulders trembling, Victor pulls

himself further up so that his eye level is even with the window. There, inside, he can see a woman

sitting at her vanity and staring at herself in the mirror.

She’s dressed in a flowing white cotton nightgown, her long brown curls hanging over her shoulders.

Victor can’t see her face, but with that hair, he knows it can only be Evelyn or Emma. Taking the risk,

he taps on the glass.

The woman gasps and spins, surprised by the noise. Victor’s breath leaves him in a woosh as he sees

that his work and planning has paid off – it’s Evelyn.

Still, his body continues to shake and he knows that he’s running out of time. He hoists himself up

further so that she can see his face in the window. Evelyn starts again, her eyes focusing on him, and

then she gasps, rushing forward. She presses her hands on the pane and looks at him with relief in her

eyes. He can see her mouth make the shape of his name, but the glass prevents him from hearing.

Victor peels one finger from the window sill and points upwards, indicating that Evelyn should open the

window. Gasping and hitting her head with her hand for making him hang there, Evelyn pushes the

window upwards and reaches out to grab Victor by the back of the shirt, helping to haul him into the

room. They both fall on the floor with a thump, at which Evelyn grimaces, worried about the noise.

“Victor,” she hisses, glancing at the door in worry. “What are you doing here – I mean, I’m glad to see

you – but –“

“Your dad doesn’t even put locks on your windows?” Victor asks, groaning as he rolls his shoulders,

which still ache.

“He doesn’t need to,” she says, shaking her head. “He’s commanded me to stay – I can’t go

anywhere.”

Victor nods, realizing, of course, that Walsh would abuse his Alpha power in this way.

“Victor, you shouldn’t have come,” she says as he moves to a crouch on her floor. Evelyn puts her

hands on either side of his face, her eyes full of concern. “I can’t leave, and he’s going to kill you – “

“We have to try, Evelyn,” Victor says, staring into her eyes, determined. “I can’t leave you here. You

have to come home.”

“That’s all I want,” she says, shaking her head, desperate, but still seeing no point. “But he’s not going

to –“

Suddenly, an alarm blares out in the house. “s**t,” Victor says, through clenched teeth. “We were

supposed to have more time than that.” Victor slides to the window and is glad to see, faintly, three

dark figures sprinting to the woods. He watches to ensure that they make it to the tree line and then

moves back to Evelyn.

“Come on,” he says, helping her to her feet. “It’s time to go.”