Chapter 223: A Real-Life Action Thriller (Part 1)

"I have my duty. I'm no hero, but I'm a journalist! I don't know how to save lives, but I know how to document!"

Kayla's sudden outburst of conviction left Martin momentarily perplexed.

But he quickly shook it off.

Setting her down firmly, he warned in a low voice, "I don't care why you're here. Just one thing—don't get in my way."

"Don't worry, I won't!"

Meanwhile, Fox News Channel's viewership had surged by 22%, surpassing 20 million viewers and climbing rapidly. Even Rupert Murdoch, the channel's big boss, had been alerted. Switching on his TV, he tuned into his own network.

Onboard the helicopter, the cameraman silently captured the moment Martin caught Kayla, before switching the broadcast feed to the handheld camera Kayla now carried.

"Jet, how's the signal? Is it connected?" Kayla whispered into her earpiece.

Jet's voice came through, "It's perfect."

From up ahead, Martin, now at the stairwell door, growled, "Shut up!"

"Sorry!" Kayla flinched, hastily apologizing.

As Martin shot her another warning glare, she zipped her lips, miming locking them shut.

Martin wasn't worried about their whispers alerting the criminals—he had already ascertained their positions on the ground floor and basement. His concern was that Kayla, habitually talkative, might slip up at a critical moment.

222 Tremblin Street – Martin's Family Home

Grant had given up calling Martin's phone. Clutching his tearful wife, Linda, tightly, he stared at the TV screen, eyes fixed on his son's figure.

By now, over 30 million people across North America were glued to the same live broadcast.

Everyone watching felt the tension, the admiration, and the nerve-wracking anticipation. This wasn't a movie—it was a real rescue mission, with everything on the line.

Martin reached the ground floor stairwell and gently nudged the door open. Though he had already mapped out the area with his magic, he feigned caution, peering around before whispering back to Kayla:

"There's one guy on the first floor. I'll take care of him. You stay here and keep quiet."

From her vantage point, Kayla also caught sight of the bank's dimly lit lobby.

A few small nightlights flickered, casting a faint glow. The firelight from outside filtered in, casting shadows that danced ominously on the walls.

Martin slid out through the door, moving with feline agility along the walls.

Crouched by the door, Kayla held her breath, keeping the handheld camera trained on Martin.

Through her lens, she saw Martin darting like a shadow toward the lone criminal.

Just then, the unexpected happened.

The criminal, who had been pacing aimlessly, suddenly turned and began heading toward the left side of the lobby.

The VIP lounge.

The very place where Jessica and the others were hiding.

Inside the VIP lounge, Jessica, Dorothy, and Lindsay were huddled together, nervously peeking through the door crack.

"He's coming this way!" Dorothy whispered, panic-stricken.

"What?!"

"No!"

Fear gripped them all.

Though Dorothy had some experience with sports and even boxing, this was unlike anything she'd ever faced.

"What do we do?" Lindsay whimpered, tears welling in her eyes.

"Stop panicking!" Jessica, though trembling, tried to steel herself. "Martin will be here any moment. We… we'll fight if we have to!"

Dorothy grabbed a chair and positioned herself behind the door. Jessica and Lindsay quickly followed suit, arming themselves with whatever they could find—a glass ashtray and a decorative object.

Outside, the footsteps drew closer.

They reached the door.

Then came a muffled grunt, followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor.

The doorknob turned slowly, and the door creaked open.

The three girls braced themselves, trembling, hearts pounding.

Dorothy raised her chair high.

Jessica and Lindsay clutched their makeshift weapons, hands slick with sweat.

A figure slipped into the room.

"Jess—oh shi—"

Before he could finish, the girls launched their attack.

With every ounce of strength, they swung their weapons, but the figure reacted swiftly, ducking back through the door just in time.

"Wait! That voice… Was that Martin?" Lindsay suddenly realized.

"What?" Jessica froze.

"Are you sure?" Dorothy frowned.

"Of course, it's me!" came Martin's exasperated voice from outside.

"Martin!"

"You really came!"

"Oh, thank God, we were so scared!"

The girls flung the door open, rushing to embrace Martin.

The scene, captured by Kayla's camera, prompted cheers and applause from viewers across the country.

Martin wiped his brow dramatically. "You scared me too!"

"Sorry!"

"We didn't know!"

"Thank goodness we missed."

The girls poured out apologies.

But Martin's expression darkened suddenly.

"Get back inside!"

He shoved them back into the lounge and shut the door firmly. "Stay hidden. Don't make a sound."

Turning, he bolted toward the stairwell.

In the basement, the remaining three criminals were making their way up the stairs, each carrying a heavy bag stuffed with loot.

Kayla, crouched in the stairwell, was still oblivious to the danger.

Martin sprinted toward her, but the criminals, buzzing with excitement over their haul, moved swiftly.

By the time Martin was ten meters from the stairwell door, the criminals rounded the corner—and saw Kayla crouching there.

"What the hell?"

"Who's that?"

"Shoot her!"

Kayla froze, turning to see three guns aimed at her. Fear washed over her face, her camera still recording.