Reincarnated Mercenary on Duty

While Frank was making his way across the city to 140 Golden Vineyard Road, trouble was already unfolding on the other side of Daeton.

A woman stumbled down the street, her face pale, her disheveled hair falling in tangled clumps around her shoulders. She was barefoot, dressed in a hospital gown with a tattered blanket dragging on the ground behind her. Her steps were uneven, her eyes unfocused as she muttered under her breath.

"Please... help me... they have my baby... they took my babies..."

The passersby avoided her. Some cast uneasy glances in her direction, while others bumped into her without so much as an apology.

"They have hi—" she stammered before someone bumped her shoulder. She stumbled but kept going, her voice trembling. "—him. They have him there... hm... hmm..." A sob escaped her lips.

She wandered aimlessly, but as her eyes fell on a police car parked along the sidewalk, a flicker of hope seemed to stir within her. With trembling steps, she approached the vehicle, her voice cracking. "Please... please, they... they have my baby... they took my baby..."

The officer standing beside the car raised a hand to stop her. "Ma'am, please stand back. Calm down," he said, his tone firm but cautious.

"Please... they took my baby!" she cried, desperation thick in her voice.

"Alright, ma'am, calm down. Who took your baby?" The officer tried to make sense of her broken sentences.

Before she could reply, a car pulled up behind the police vehicle, and a man stepped out. His face was calm, but his eyes darted between the woman and the officer.

"Hey, Kate!" the man called out, his voice laced with forced relief. "Oh, thank God, I've been so worried!"

The officer's attention shifted toward the man, though he kept addressing the woman. "Ma'am, who took your baby?"

The man interjected, stepping closer. "She's confused, Officer. She's been unwell."

"Do you know this woman?" the officer asked, his tone sharpening.

"Yes, I do," the man said quickly. "She's my sister. She's been... sick. It's been a rough time for her."

The woman shook her head violently, her hands trembling. "No... no... no..." she whispered, her voice breaking.

The officer's brow furrowed as suspicion crept into his expression. "Alright, stay right here. Both of you. Don't move," he said, holding up a hand. He turned and walked back to his car to verify their identities.

As the officer leaned into the vehicle to grab his radio, the man silently reached behind his back and pulled out a gun tucked into his waistband.

"Officer," the man called out, his voice steady.

The officer turned, and the gunshot rang out before he could react. He collapsed to the ground, clutching his side as blood seeped through his uniform.

The man turned back to the woman, who was now frozen in terror, her body trembling. Grabbing her roughly from behind, he leaned close and hissed into her ear, "You should've stayed in the facility. At least there, you were alive."

Another shot echoed in the air, and the woman crumpled to the ground. The man barely had time to check if she was dead before a sharp voice cut through the chaos.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

The man whipped his head around just as a gunshot cracked through the air. Pain exploded in his leg, and he stumbled, clutching his thigh.

The man who fired the shot was, of course, Frank. He had just arrived at the scene and witnessed the events unfold.

Dragging his injured leg, the man hobbled toward his car. Frank fired another shot, but the man managed to throw himself into the driver's seat and slam the door shut. Tires screeched as the car sped away, leaving a trail of blood on the asphalt.

Frank cursed under his breath but didn't waste another second. He holstered his weapon and sprinted to the woman lying on the ground. Kneeling beside her, he quickly pressed two fingers to her neck, searching for a pulse.

"She's alive," he muttered with relief. Her breathing was shallow, but she was hanging on.

He turned to the fallen police officer, who lay a few feet away, clutching his side. Frank hurried to check his pulse as well. The officer was unconscious but alive. Blood oozed from his wound, but it didn't look immediately fatal.

"Lucky break," Frank murmured as he dragged the officer toward the nearby police car. He propped the officer up in the passenger seat, then returned to gently lift the woman into the back seat.

Sliding into the driver's seat, Frank started the engine and slammed his foot on the gas. The nearest hospital was only a kilometer away, but every moment was critical.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Frank saw the woman's chest rise and fall faintly. Relief mixed with urgency coursed through him. "Hang in there," he muttered, his voice firm but laced with determination.

He gripped the wheel tighter, jaw clenched. He didn't know who the man was or why he was so desperate to silence her, but one thing was clear—this was far from over.

"This isn't just a random hit," Frank muttered, his jaw clenching. "That guy shot a cop like it was nothing. This goes deep… real deep."

Questions clawed at his thoughts like a relentless storm. Where has she been for the last seven years? Why show up now? Who's trying to kill her—and why? But one fact remained clear: to get those answers, she had to survive.

As he sped toward the hospital, Frank glanced again at the woman in the back seat. Her lips moved faintly, whispering incoherent words. His grip tightened. "You're not dying today," he said through gritted teeth. "Not on my watch."

The hospital came into view, and Frank slammed the brakes as he pulled up to the emergency entrance. Jumping out, he yelled, "Help!", his voice cutting through the quiet. "I need help here—gunshot victims!"

The double doors burst open as a group of nurses and staff rushed out with stretchers. "What happened?" one of the male nurses asked, hurrying toward him.

"She's been shot—critical condition. And there's a cop too—same deal, gunshot wound." Frank gestured toward the patrol car. "He's in there. Both of them need immediate attention!"