Chapter 9 LOGAN'S GAMBIT

Logan's POV

The bunker smelled like desperation and impossible odds. I stood in the corner watching Isabel work with Cassandra, their combined magical energy making the air shimmer and my wolf pace restlessly inside my skin. Forty hours until the rescue attempt. Forty hours to prepare for a mission that should be impossible.

My phone buzzed with an encrypted message from an unknown number. I opened it expecting intelligence from one of my remaining contacts inside Crescent Moon Pack.

Instead, I found a video file.

I moved to a more private corner and pulled up the footage. The image quality was poor but recognizable. My father, Lysander Cross, chained to a wall in what looked like an interrogation chamber. Two figures stood before him, their faces obscured by magical distortion.

"Tell us about the hybrid," a woman's voice demanded. Council operative, probably high-ranking based on the authority in her tone.

Lysander's face was a mask of blood and bruises. He'd been tortured extensively. But his gray eyes, so similar to mine, held defiance that made my chest ache with complicated pride.

"Go to hell," my father rasped.

One of the figures moved and Lysander screamed as magical energy tore through him. The sound was animal and agonized and I had to force myself to keep watching.

"We know she's planning a rescue," the woman continued when the screaming stopped. "We've allowed her to gather her pathetic band of rogues because watching her try and fail will be instructive. But you can spare her the pain of watching everyone she cares about die. Tell us the insertion plan and we'll make her death quick."

Lysander laughed, the sound wet and broken. "You think I know her plans? I'm in here and she's out there. Whatever Isabel is planning, she's doing it without my input or my blessing."

"But you know her capabilities, you've been studying hybrid genetics for years. How powerful is she?"

My father's expression shifted into something like wonder. "More powerful than you can imagine. More powerful than I ever hoped. That girl is going to tear down everything you've built and she's going to do it without compromising her soul the way we did."

Another surge of magical torture and my father's body convulsed. I wanted to look away but forced myself to witness every moment of his suffering.

"Last chance, Lysander. Give us something useful or the next session includes your son. We have operatives positioned to take Logan Cross within the hour. Is protecting the hybrid worth watching your heir broken the same way you're being broken?"

My blood turned to ice, they were coming for me. They'd use me as leverage against my father and against Isabel,  I'd become a liability, another hostage to manipulate.

Lysander raised his head, blood dripping from his mouth. "My son is stronger than you know. He's already made choices that betray everything I raised him to be, and I've never been prouder. Do your worst. The Cross bloodline isn't defined by you anymore."

The video ended.

I stood frozen, trying to process everything I'd just witnessed. The message was clear. The council knew about the rescue attempt and they were preparing a trap. Worse, they were coming for me to use as bait.

"Logan?" Isabel's voice pulled me back to the present. She stood a few feet away, concern written across her delicate features. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I showed her the phone, watching her face shift from confusion to horror as she watched my father's torture.

"Oh goddess," she whispered when it finished. "Logan, I'm so sorry, it’s a trap," I said flatly, pushing past the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "They know we're coming. They're using my father as bait and they're planning to capture me to use as leverage."

Isabel's eyes narrowed with tactical calculation that reminded me she'd been a Pack Historian, trained to analyze patterns and predict outcomes. "How long ago was this recorded?"

I checked the metadata. "Eighteen hours."

"Then we have maybe six hours before their operatives arrive here. The bunker's wards will slow their tracking but not stop it completely." She turned to address the room. "Everyone, we have a situation."

The activity in the bunker ground to a halt as Isabel explained what we'd learned. Faces shifted from determination to fear to grim acceptance. These people had already committed to an impossible fight. Learning the odds were even worse wasn't going to stop them.

"We move up the timeline," Isabel decided. "We insert tonight instead of waiting for Lysander's trial. Hit them before they're fully prepared for us."

"That's insane," Marcus said. "We haven't finalized the plan and you haven't completed your training with Cassandra."

"The plan is as good as it's going to get and I either know enough magic to survive this or I don't," Isabel countered. "But I will not let the council use Logan as leverage against his father or against this operation."

She looked at me directly. "You're not bait, Logan,  you're not a liability. You're part of this team and we don't leave people behind."

The certainty in her voice, the absolute conviction that I deserved protection despite everything I'd done to her, made something crack in my chest.

"I should leave," I said quietly. "Lead the council operatives away from here, buy you time to complete the mission without me."

"Absolutely not," Kael said, surprising me by agreeing with Isabel. "You're the only one who knows your father's communication protocols and hidden dead drops. We need you to coordinate with him once we're inside the facility."

"Kael's right," Isabel added. "This works because we're a team with different strengths. You leave and we lose a critical component."

I looked around the bunker at faces that should hate me. Kael, the half-brother I'd used and manipulated. Isabel, the mate I'd destroyed publicly. Marcus, the mentor I'd helped my father demote. Thirty rogues who'd suffered under the system I'd benefited from.

They were willing to risk everything to save my father and protect me.

"I don't deserve this," I said, the words barely audible.

"Probably not," Isabel agreed with brutal honesty. "But deserve has nothing to do with it. We're not doing this because you earned it, Logan. We're doing this because it's right."

She moved closer, and despite the broken bond between us, I felt the phantom ache of what we'd once shared. "Besides, I need you to see what happens when we win. I need you to watch the system you were raised to lead completely dismantled. That's going to hurt worse than any punishment I could design."

Her smile was sharp and knowing and absolutely devastating.

"Get revenge by forcing me to witness my own irrelevance," I said, almost laughing. "That's creative."

"I learned from the best," Isabel replied. "Now stop wallowing and help Dante finalize the insertion logistics, we will move in five hours."

The bunker erupted back into activity, everyone focused on impossible preparation timelines. I moved to where Dante was frantically typing on his laptop, satellite imagery and facility schematics covering multiple screens.

"Tell me we have a workable plan," I said.

Dante looked up, exhaustion and determination warring on his human features. "We have a plan that will probably get most of us killed. Whether that counts as workable depends on your definition."

He pulled up the facility layout. "The main entrance is heavily guarded and monitored. Service entrances are warded against unauthorized access. Underground approaches are flooded and magically sealed. The only viable entry point is through the prisoner transport system like we discussed."

"How do we substitute our people for actual prisoners?"

"We don't," Dante said grimly. "We intercept the transport vehicle two miles from the facility, incapacitate the guards, and our people take their place. The prisoners get released into the forest and hopefully make it to safety before the council realizes what happened."

"That puts civilian prisoners in danger," I protested.

"Everything puts everyone in danger," Dante countered. "But Isabel was clear. We're not leaving prisoners in council custody if we can avoid it. This way, at least some people get freed."

I studied the timeline, mentally checking for weaknesses. "What about Cassandra's ward disruption? How confident are we that it will actually work?"

"About sixty percent," Cassandra's voice said from behind me. The ancient witch materialized out of thin air, her ability to move undetected still unsettling. "The magical generator is designed to be stable and redundant. Overloading it requires massive energy input at a precise frequency. Isabel can provide the energy but maintaining the frequency while also keeping herself alive will require perfect coordination between us."

"And if the coordination isn't perfect?"

"Then either the wards don't collapse or Isabel dies channeling too much power," Cassandra said bluntly. "Possibly both."

I wanted to argue, to demand a safer alternative. But there wasn't one. We'd run out of time and options.

"How's Isabel's training progressing?" I asked.

"She's learning faster than anyone I've ever taught," Cassandra admitted with something like respect. "Her hybrid nature gives her access to both Alpha capacity and omega sensitivity. Combined properly, that creates potential that's genuinely unprecedented."

"But?" I prompted, hearing the hesitation.

"But she's still fundamentally untrained. She has power without control, ability without experience. In a controlled environment, that's manageable. In combat, it's catastrophic." Cassandra's ancient eyes met mine. "Your mate is going to attempt something that would challenge a trained practitioner with decades of experience, and she's doing it after three days of instruction. The courage is admirable. The survival odds are not."

"She's not my mate anymore," I said automatically.

"The bond was severed but the connection remains," Cassandra corrected. "You can feel her even now, can't you? The ghost of what you shared?"

She was right. Beneath the artificial distance created by rejection, I could still sense Isabel's presence like a compass point always marking her location. It was weaker than a proper mate bond but stronger than simple attraction.

"If this mission fails and she dies, will that connection finally break?" I asked.

"If this mission fails and she dies, you'll wish it would," Cassandra said. "But no. You'll feel the absence of her for the rest of your life, a phantom limb constantly reminding you of what you destroyed."

She walked away, leaving me with that cheerful thought.

Kael approached, two cups of coffee in hand. He offered one wordlessly and we stood in uncomfortable silence, watching Isabel practice energy manipulation with Elara's careful guidance.

"I hate that I don't hate you," Kael said finally.

I almost smiled. "The feeling is mutual."

"You're my brother. You used me. You've spent years manipulating my life from the shadows. I should want you dead." Kael's jaw clenched. "But watching you risk everything to save our father, seeing you support Isabel even though it clearly kills you to be near her, I can't sustain the anger."

"Keep trying," I suggested. "The anger is justified."

"Maybe. But justified anger won't save anyone tonight."

We watched Isabel create a glowing sphere of energy between her hands, the power flickering and unstable. She was exhausted, pushed beyond reasonable limits, and still forcing herself to learn skills that should take years to develop.

"She's extraordinary," I said quietly.

"Yes," Kael agreed. "And she's mine now, Logan. I know you still feel the bond. I know walking away from her nearly destroyed you. But she made her choice. She chose the partner who didn't betray her over the mate who did."

The words should have hurt but they were simply true. "I know. And Kael, I'm glad it's you. I'm glad she found someone who'll protect her without trying to control her."

My half-brother looked at me with something between surprise and respect. "That might be the most mature thing you've ever said."

"Don't get used to it. Once we survive tonight's impossible mission, I'll probably go back to being an arrogant bastard."

"I'm counting on it," Kael said with dark humor.

Elara approached, her expression grave. "It's time. The prisoner transport leaves the council facility in two hours. We need to position ourselves along the route with enough time to intercept without being detected."

Everyone gathered their gear with grim efficiency. Weapons, communication devices, magical supplies. Thirty rogues prepared to assault a fortress, one ancient witch prepared to channel fatal amounts of power. One hybrid omega prepared to become either a legend or a cautionary tale.

And me, the disgraced Alpha trying to save his father and redeem a lifetime of complicity.

Isabel addressed the group one final time. "In approximately four hours, we're going to break into the most secure facility the council operates. We're going to free every prisoner they're holding, expose their crimes to the supernatural world, and survive to tell about it. The odds are terrible. The risks are existential. And if we fail, we'll be remembered as idiots who got themselves killed challenging an eight-hundred-year-old power structure."

She paused, letting that sink in. "But if we succeed, if we actually pull this off, we'll prove that resistance is possible. We'll show every omega, every beta, every wolf who's been told to submit and accept their place that the system can be challenged. We'll create hope where there's only been despair."

Her violet eyes swept across the gathered faces. "So let's go make some history."

The group moved out in organized teams. Dante's technical specialists left first to position surveillance equipment. Kael's combat teams deployed second to secure the intercept point. Cassandra went third to prepare the magical disruption.

That left me, Isabel, Elara, and Marcus as the final insertion team.

"Ready?" Isabel asked, looking at me directly for the first time since we'd arrived.

I thought about my father in chains, about the eight hundred years of oppression we were attempting to end, about the mate I'd destroyed trying to protect.

"No," I admitted. "But let's do it anyway."

We moved into the night, four people who shouldn't trust each other united by desperate purpose. The forest was dark and treacherous, but we moved with the confidence of wolves who'd already lost everything and had nothing left to fear.

Two hours later, we reached the ambush point. Dante's surveillance confirmed the prisoner transport was on schedule. Six guards, eight prisoners, one armored vehicle with magical reinforcement.

"Remember," Isabel said as we took our positions, "we need the prisoners freed unharmed. Minimal casualties on all sides. This is a rescue, not an execution."

The vehicle appeared, its headlights cutting through darkness. Kael's teams moved with professional precision, disabling the vehicle's electronics and forcing it to stop. The guards emerged ready for combat but they weren't prepared for thirty coordinated rogues attacking from concealment.

The fight was over in ninety seconds.

We pulled the prisoners from the vehicle, eight terrified wolves who couldn't believe they were being freed. Elara quickly explained and pointed them toward safe houses. They disappeared into the forest, freedom unexpected and probably temporary but still precious.

Our people took the guards' uniforms and positions in the vehicle. Isabel, Kael, Marcus, and I hid in the prisoner compartment, playing our roles. The vehicle resumed its route, now carrying infiltrators instead of its intended cargo.

"This is insane," I muttered as we approached the facility gates.

"That's been established," Isabel replied. "Any other observations?"

The gate guards checked credentials and waved us through. We were inside the facility perimeter, past the first layer of security. The vehicle descended into an underground garage and my wolf began to panic, feeling the oppressive weight of magical wards pressing down on our abilities.

"Stay calm," Isabel whispered, though I could smell her fear. "Once Cassandra brings down the wards, we'll have ninety seconds to locate Lysander and fight our way to the exit. Everyone knows their role."

The vehicle stopped. Guards in full tactical gear surrounded us, weapons raised.

"Prisoners, exit the vehicle," a harsh voice commanded.

We shuffled out in our stolen guard uniforms, heads down, playing the role of defeated captives. The facility interior was sterile and cold, designed to break spirits through environmental oppression alone.

They led us toward processing, and my heart hammered knowing we were about to attempt the stupidest, most dangerous plan ever conceived.

Isabel's hand found mine briefly, her touch sending electricity through our broken bond.

"Trust me," she whispered.

Then Cassandra's voice echoed through everyone's communication device.

"Ward disruption in three, two, one—"

The world exploded with magical feedback and Isabel screamed as she channeled enough power to overload the facility's entire defensive system.

The wards collapsed.

Ninety seconds to save everyone or die trying, we'd better make them count.