David Han remained motionless in the dining room chair, the ropes cutting off circulation to his wrists and ankles. The elegant dining room of their home where just last week they'd celebrated Thomas's fourteenth birthday had been transformed into an interrogation chamber. His wife Vivian sat across from him, bound in the same manner, forced to watch every second of his torture.
The throbbing pain in his left hand was unbearable. Three fingers gone. Only his index finger and thumb remained, while blood dripped steadily onto the floor, forming a crimson pool that was slowly expanding beneath his chair. Each drop marked another second of this nightmare, another moment stolen from what should have been their future.
"Captain," murmured the man with the radio, adjusting his black tactical vest. The suppressed pistol remained holstered on his thigh a constant, unspoken threat. "The children have been intercepted and are being transferred to Mrs. Heasley's laboratory."
The words hit David like a physical blow. Amelie and Thomas. Their babies. He could still smell Amelie's strawberry shampoo from when he'd braided her hair that morning, could still hear Thomas arguing about why he should be allowed to stay up past eleven on weekends. Normal parent things. Normal family things. All of it ripped away in a matter of hours.
Vivian lifted her head, fixing a hate-filled glare on the monitor that dominated the room. The split screen showed familiar faces too familiar. The President of the United States occupied the upper left window, his expression carefully neutral as he observed the scene. The British Prime Minister appeared on the right, his jaw set in a hard line. In the lower row, two of the most powerful CEOs in the global tech industry completed the video conference. One of them, Marcus, had been their close friend for years. Now he avoided her gaze, clearly disturbed by witnessing the torture in real-time, but lacking the courage to intervene.
"I already told you I'll cooperate," Vivian spat, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. Each word seemed to cost her something, as if speaking them was a betrayal of everything she'd worked for. "Take me to the laboratory. I'll support the project in whatever capacity you need."
But the desperation broke through her composure like water through a dam. The accumulated tension exploded in a raw scream that echoed throughout the house:
"You didn't have to take my children! You fucking bastards!"
The scream hung in the air, raw and primal. It was the sound of a mother's worst nightmare made real, of a brilliant mind pushed past its breaking point. David felt his own control slipping. Each drop of blood that left his body seemed to carry with it another piece of hope, another fragment of the life they'd built together.
"Mrs. Heasley," said Edric Hale, the British Prime Minister, his voice carrying the exhaustion of countless failed negotiations. "For Christ's sake, not this again. We've been over this for six months. Six. Bloody. Months. How many more times do you need to hear it? Your utopian vision is a fantasy that will fuck up the balance of the entire planet."
"You're wrong!" Vivian shouted, pulling against the ropes until they cut into her skin. Fresh blood bloomed on her wrists, but she didn't seem to notice. "I've explained it to you a thousand times! This project will elevate us as a species. The possibilities are infinite, but you... you just want to hide it, turn it into another weapon."
"The same speech," Hale muttered. "Word for word. Every single time."
Her voice cracked on the last word. David knew what she was thinking all those late nights in the lab, all those breakthrough moments when she'd run to him with eyes shining, explaining in rapid-fire sentences about quantum entanglement and dimensional bridges. She'd wanted to give the world a gift. Instead, she'd painted a target on their family.
President Elijah Monroe rubbed his temples, visibly exhausted. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse with frustration.
"Vivian, I'm done. I'm fucking done." He sighed heavily, not even trying to maintain presidential decorum anymore. "Six months of meetings. Six months of your lawyers, your threats to go public, your German allies. Six months of you giving us presentation after presentation about your humanitarian paradise. We've tried reasoning with you. We've tried bribing you. But you just won't listen." He paused, staring directly into the camera. "So we're done talking. Marcus will take over your project. He knows your work almost as well as you do he's been studying it long enough. And Adam... Adam actually understands how the real world works."
"Reasonable?" Vivian's laugh was bitter, bordering on hysterical. "You mean controllable. You mean willing to weaponize my life's work for the highest bidder."
"That's enough," the Captain interjected, speaking for the first time in twenty minutes. His voice was professionally neutral, but David caught something else in it impatience, maybe. Or deadline pressure. "We're wasting time here. Six months of surveillance, three months of active negotiations, and now this. We should have done it this way from the beginning."
"Time?" David found himself speaking, his voice rough from screaming earlier. "What's the hurry? You've already won. You've got our kids, you've got us. What more do you want?"
The Captain regarded him with cool assessment. "Your wife seems to think we're the villains here, Mr. Han. But let me ask you something as a former detective, you understand the necessity of difficult choices, don't you? Sometimes we have to do unpleasant things to protect the greater good. We gave her every chance. More chances than my superiors wanted. This could have been done quietly half a year ago."
On the screen, Marcus Chen finally found his voice. "Vivian, I... Look, we've been through this. You know I've been reporting to them for the past two years. We talked about it last month when you confronted me. I admitted everything. I told you I was trying to protect you, to find a middle ground"
"You thought you could steal it yourself," Vivian interrupted, her voice like shattered glass. "All those dinners, all those playdates with our children... two years, Marcus. Two years of lying to my face."
"We've had this conversation," Marcus said weakly. "Multiple times. You know why I"
"Oh, spare us the melodrama, Marcus. We all knew what this was." Adam leaned forward, his youthful face filling his window on the screen. Unlike the others, he seemed energized by the situation, as if this was just another hostile takeover to navigate. "Vivian, we've heard your 'gift to humanity' speech what fifty times now? A hundred? I've memorized it. Hell, I could probably give your TED talk for you at this point. But here's what you still don't get after all these months: nobody cares about your vision. Did you really think you could announce technology that would make trillion-dollar industries obsolete overnight? We explained the economics to you. We showed you the projections. Countries would collapse. Markets would crash. But you just kept pushing, kept insisting the world would magically adapt."
"I thought," Vivian said slowly, each word deliberate, "that I was dealing with human beings. Not jackals."
"Not the terrorism argument again," Prime Minister Hale said with clear exasperation. "Every meeting, Vivian. Every bloody meeting for six months. Yes, we know your counterpoints by heart: humanitarian aid, family reunification, medical supplies. You have your list, we have ours. Terrorists with instant portal access. Criminal organizations bypassing every border. Nuclear weapons appearing in city centers with no warning. We've shown you the intelligence reports. We've had the generals explain it. We've run the simulations together. And every time every single time you dismiss it as fear-mongering."
"Because it is fear-mongering!" Vivian shot back, the words automatic after so many repetitions of this same fight. "You take the worst possible scenario and"
"Enough!" President Monroe's hand slammed down on his desk, the sound sharp even through the laptop speakers. "We're not doing this dance again. I've wasted enough nights on this circular argument. The decision has been made. Captain, proceed with the transfer. We need Dr. Heasley at the laboratory within the hour. I'm done talking."
The Captain nodded and gestured to his subordinate. "Prep them for transport. And..." He glanced at David's mangled hand. "Get him some medical attention. We need him alive, at least for now."
"Why?" David asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
"Insurance," the Captain replied simply. "Your wife loves you, Mr. Han. Love makes people... cooperative."
Vivian made a sound that was part sob, part snarl. "When this is over"
"This will never be over," President Monroe said quietly. "We explained this in January, in March, and again last week. You've seen too much, know too much. The witness protection protocols were detailed in the package we sent new identities, comfortable life, your children's education secured. You threw it back in our faces three times. So now we do it the hard way. You'll continue your work under strict supervision. Your children will grow up safe, but they'll never know the truth about what their mother created. This is what you've chosen, Vivian. Not us. You."
"You're monsters," Vivian whispered.
"No," Prime Minister Hale corrected with a tired sigh. "We're the same people who've been trying to solve this peacefully for half a year. You called us monsters in Berlin. You called us monsters in the February video conference. At some point, Doctor, you need to look in the mirror and ask who really forced this situation."
"And if I refuse?" Vivian asked, though they all knew it was an empty threat.
On the screen, Adam Mercer smiled a cold, corporate smile that never reached his eyes. "Then we implement Plan C. We've discussed this, Vivian. You know exactly what happens. Young Amelie and Thomas will grow up as orphans. Foster care can be so... unpredictable. Especially for children who've witnessed what they're about to witness. You've forced us to this option. We gave you every opportunity to cooperate voluntarily."
"You wouldn't"
"We would," President Monroe said flatly. "We are. We've moved past negotiations, past compromises, past your conditions and demands. This conversation is our final courtesy, Dr. Heasley. The same courtesy we've extended twelve times before. But this is the last time. Accept it or don't either way, this ends tonight."
David watched his wife crumble. Not physically Vivian was too strong for that. But something in her eyes died as she nodded slowly. Six months of resistance, of fighting, of believing she could win all of it crumbling in this moment.
"I'll need my full team," she said, her voice empty of its earlier fire. The words sounded rehearsed probably because they'd discussed terms so many times before. "And unrestricted access to my notes."
"Finally," Monroe breathed. "Finally, some sense."
"Done," Marcus said quickly, eager to move past the ugliness. "I'll personally ensure"
"Don't," Vivian cut him off. "Don't pretend this makes you anything other than complicit. When you look at your daughter tonight, Marcus, remember that you helped kidnap mine. Remember that for two years you sat at my table, ate my food, and reported every word back to them."
Marcus's face flushed, but he said nothing.
"Captain," President Monroe addressed the operative. "Begin the transfer. And... minimize any further harm to the family. We've made our point."
"Understood, sir."
The screen went dark, leaving them in the dining room with only the sound of David's blood dripping and the soft static of the radio. The Captain moved efficiently, cutting David's bonds and gesturing for the medic to attend to his hand.
"You fought them," David said to Vivian as the medic began wrapping his mangled hand. "That's more than most would have done."
"I failed," she replied, not meeting his eyes. "I failed you, I failed our children. I thought I could change the world."
"You did," David said. "Just not the way you wanted."
The Captain cleared his throat. "Five minutes to get ready. Pack light only essentials. Your children are already at the facility."
As they were led upstairs to pack under guard, David reached for Vivian's hand with his good one. She squeezed it tightly, and in that moment, no words were needed. They both understood that their old life was over. The only question now was whether they could build something new from the ashes and keep their children safe in a world that had just become infinitely more dangerous.
The Captain cleared his throat. "Five minutes to get ready. Pack light only essentials. Your children are already at the facility."
"Are they hurt?" The question tore from Vivian's throat before she could stop it. "Did you did your men"
"They're unharmed," the Captain replied, and for the first time, something like humanity flickered in his eyes. "Scared, but unharmed. They were taken from school during lunch. We told them there was a family emergency."
"Which wasn't a lie," David said bitterly.
"Thomas would have fought," Vivian said, more to herself than anyone else. "He's been taking those martial arts classes. He thinks he's invincible."
"He tried," the Captain admitted. "Broke one of my men's nose before we subdued him. You should be proud. He was trying to protect his sister."
The image of his fourteen-year-old son fighting trained operatives made David's chest tighten. Thomas, who still slept with a nightlight sometimes. Thomas, who'd inherited his mother's brilliant mind and his father's protective instincts.
"And Amelie?" Vivian's voice was barely a whisper.
"She asked if she could bring her violin. We let her." The Captain's expression remained neutral, but David caught something in his tone. Perhaps he had children of his own. Perhaps somewhere, buried under the tactical gear and government conditioning, a conscience still flickered.
"Thank you," Vivian said quietly, and the Captain looked away.
As they were led upstairs, David noticed how their home had been methodically searched. Drawers hung open, papers scattered across surfaces. In Vivian's study, her computer screens still glowed, displaying fragments of equations that had doomed their family. The scarlet portal project named for the distinctive red energy signature it produced had been her life's work. Five years of eighteen-hour days, of missed dinners and postponed vacations, all for this moment of betrayal.
"They've been through everything," Vivian observed, her scientific mind still cataloging even in crisis. "They'll have copied all my drives, all my backups."
"Not all of them," David said quietly, remembering the encrypted drives hidden in the false bottom of Thomas's old toy chest. Vivian had insisted on the precaution, paranoid even then. Not paranoid enough, apparently.
"It doesn't matter now," she said, defeat coloring her words. "They have me. That's all they really need."
In their bedroom, under the watchful eye of the guards, they packed mechanically. David struggled with one hand, the medic's hasty field dressing already seeping red. Vivian helped him, her movements gentle despite everything. It was such a normal, married gesture helping each other dress made surreal by the circumstances.
"The portal," David said quietly as she folded his shirts. "Could you have hidden it? Delayed the announcement?"
"And then what?" Vivian asked. "Keep humanity's greatest leap forward locked in a basement? The portal isn't just mathematics on a page, David. It requires a specific understanding of quantum mechanics that only I've achieved. They can steal my notes, my equipment, even force me to work for them but without me, it's just expensive scrap metal. That's why they need me alive. That's why they took our children."
"Being irreplaceable sure didn't help us."
"Don't," she said sharply. "Don't you dare blame me for believing in a better world. For thinking that humanity could handle its own evolution."
"I'm not blaming you," David said, catching her hand. "I'm blaming them. Every last one of them. Especially Marcus."
Vivian's face hardened at the mention of their former friend. "He knew. All those times he asked about my research, acted supportive... he was reporting back to them."
"We trusted the wrong people."
"No," Vivian corrected. "We trusted people, period. That was our mistake."
The Captain appeared in the doorway. "Time's up."
They descended the stairs one last time. David's legs felt unsteady, shock and blood loss taking their toll. The dining room had been hastily cleaned, but the stains remained. They always did. He'd seen enough crime scenes to know that some marks never came out.
Outside, three black SUVs waited in their driveway, engines running. The suburban street was eerily quiet no doubt the neighbors had been warned to stay inside. Or perhaps they were simply used to looking the other way. It was that kind of world now.
"Separate vehicles," the Captain ordered.
"No," Vivian said immediately. "We stay together."
"That's not your call."
"Then I don't cooperate. Simple as that." Vivian's chin lifted in defiance. "You need me functional. Separating me from my husband after what you've done that's not how you get cooperation."
The Captain spoke quietly into his radio, then nodded. "Fine. But any problems"
"There won't be," David assured him. He had no fight left, not with his children as hostages.
The SUV's interior smelled of leather and gun oil. Vivian pressed against David's good side, her hand finding his in the darkness. Outside, the city lights blurred past the life they were leaving behind, the normal world that would continue spinning without them.
"I keep thinking about this morning," Vivian said softly. "Amelie didn't want to go to school. Said she had a bad feeling. I told her it was just nerves about her math test."
"You couldn't have known."
"Couldn't I? They moved the German Chancellor meeting three times always at the last minute. Marcus has been acting strange since Christmas. Those 'security consultants' Monroe sent in April who photographed everything. The mysterious lab break-in where nothing was stolen in May. The signs were everywhere. Six months of signs. I just... I thought I had more time. I thought they'd keep negotiating."
"Stop," David said firmly. "This isn't your fault. You created something extraordinary. They're the ones who corrupted it."
"Something extraordinary," Vivian repeated bitterly. "Do you know what the portal could have done, David? Really done?"
He'd heard her explain it a hundred times, but he let her talk. She needed this.
"Instant transportation of goods and people anywhere in the world. No more shipping delays, no more carbon emissions from freight. Medical supplies to disaster zones in seconds. Families reunited across continents. The end of isolation, of borders as barriers. I was going to change everything."
"You still might," David offered. "Just... differently than you planned."
"As a weapon," she said flatly. "They'll use it for military applications first. Troops deployed instantly behind enemy lines. Nuclear weapons delivered without missiles. The same technology that could have united humanity will be used to perfect the art of killing."
The convoy turned onto the highway, heading north. David recognized the route toward the industrial district where Vivian's laboratory was located. How many times had he driven her there when her car was in the shop? How many late nights had he brought her dinner when she forgot to eat?
"Sir," the driver said suddenly. "We have a problem."
The Captain leaned forward. "Report."
"Roadblock ahead. Looks like... press."
David felt Vivian tense beside him. The media had been circling the scarlet portal story for weeks, sensing something big. If they'd somehow learned about tonight...
"How did they know?" the Captain demanded.
"Someone leaked," the driver replied. "Social media's lighting up. Video of armed men at the Heasley residence. It's going viral."
"Fuck," the Captain said the first truly human response David had heard from him. "Six months of containment and someone leaks it now?" He spoke rapidly into his radio, coordinating with the other vehicles.
"This changes things," Vivian said quietly. "Public attention. They can't disappear us as easily now. Maybe that's why they finally made their movesomeone was about to go public."
"Don't be naive," the Captain said. "We have contingencies for this. We've had them since day one."
But David could hear the uncertainty in his voice. The government's power lay in shadows, in the ability to act without scrutiny. Light the harsh light of public attention was their enemy.
The convoy suddenly veered right, taking an exit David didn't recognize. Alternative route, probably. But as they descended into an industrial area, David felt Vivian's hand tighten on his.
"This isn't the way to my lab," she said.
"Secondary location," the Captain replied. "The primary site is compromised."
"My children you said they were at the laboratory."
"They're being redirected."
"You lied." Vivian's voice was dangerously calm. "You looked me in the eye and lied about my children."
"I told you they were safe. That remains true."
"Where are they?" When the Captain didn't answer, Vivian's control snapped. "WHERE ARE MY CHILDREN?"
"They're safe," the Captain repeated. "That's all you need to know right now."
David felt the last of his restraint evaporate. With his good hand, he lunged for the Captain, but the operative was ready. In one smooth motion, he drew his sidearm, pressing it against David's temple.
"I understand you're upset," the Captain said evenly. "But let's not do anything that would leave your children without a father."
"You bastard," David growled.
"I'm a soldier following orders," the Captain corrected. "Your wife created something that could destabilize the entire world order. My job is to contain that threat. Your family's comfort is not my priority."
"Then what is?" Vivian asked. "What could possibly justify this?"
"Seven billion lives," the Captain said simply. "The prevention of a technology arms race that would make the nuclear age look like a playground squabble. The maintenance of a world order that, while flawed, has prevented global catastrophe for decades."
"You sound like them," Vivian said with disgust. "Like Monroe and Hale. Parroting their justifications."
"Maybe because they're right," the Captain said. "Did you consider that? Did you, in all your brilliance, consider that maybe humanity isn't ready for what you've created?"
"That wasn't my decision to make."
"No," the Captain agreed. "It was theirs. And they made it."
The convoy pulled into a warehouse complex, abandoned by the look of it. Broken windows reflected their headlights like dead eyes. This wasn't a government facility this was something off the books.
"Where are we?" David demanded.
"Transition point," the Captain said. "Set up three months ago when it became clear you wouldn't cooperate voluntarily. You'll be processed here before moving to the final location."
"Processed," Vivian repeated. "Like we're packages."
"In a way, you are. Valuable packages that need to be handled carefully. We've had a lot of time to prepare for this, Dr. Heasley. Every contingency planned. Every detail covered."
As they exited the vehicles, David counted at least twenty operatives. Too many to fight, even if he'd had both hands and a weapon. The warehouse loomed before them, a mouth waiting to swallow whatever remained of their old lives.
"Before we go in," Vivian said, stopping suddenly. "I need to know my children are alive."
"They are."
"Prove it."
The Captain sighed, then pulled out a phone. After a brief conversation, he handed it to Vivian. David leaned close, hearing a small voice on the other end.
"Mommy?"
"Amelie!" Vivian's voice broke. "Baby, are you okay? Is Thomas with you?"
"He's here. We're scared, Mommy. The men won't tell us what's happening. They said you and Daddy were in trouble."
"We're coming, sweetheart. We're coming to get you. Be brave for me, okay? Take care of your brother."
"He's taking care of me," Amelie said, and David could hear the tears in her voice. "When are you coming?"
"Soon, baby. Very soon. I love you."
"I love you too, Mommy. Here's Thomas"
The Captain took the phone back before Thomas could speak. "Satisfied?"
"Barely," Vivian said, but some of the fight had gone out of her. Hearing Amelie's voice had both strengthened and broken her.
They entered the warehouse, their footsteps echoing in the vast space. Temporary lights had been set up, creating pools of harsh illumination. In the center, a medical station waited.
"What's that for?" David asked, though he suspected he knew.
"Tracking implants," the Captain said matter-of-factly. "Standard procedure for high-value assets."
"We're not assets," Vivian said. "We're people."
"You were people," the Captain corrected. "Now you're something else. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be."
As medical technicians approached with their equipment, David caught Vivian's eye. In that look, volumes passed between them. Love, regret, determination, fear all the emotions of a marriage tested beyond its limits.
"Together," she mouthed.
"Always," he replied.
The technicians were efficient, professional. The implants went in quickly subcutaneous, the Captain explained, impossible to remove without surgery. They would know where Vivian and David were at all times, monitor their vital signs, even detect certain chemical changes that might indicate deception or planning.
"The children too?" Vivian asked quietly.
"Already done," the Captain confirmed.
David closed his eyes, imagining Thomas and Amelie undergoing the same procedure. His brave son, his musical daughter, marked like livestock. The rage that filled him was useless, impotent. He'd failed in the most fundamental duty of a parent to protect his children.
"Now what?" Vivian asked as the technicians finished.
"Now we wait for transport to the facility. Your real work begins tomorrow."
"And if I refuse to work?"
The Captain's expression didn't change. "Your children will be placed in separate foster homes. You'll never see them again. They'll be told you died."
"You're a monster," David said.
"I'm effective," the Captain corrected. "There's a difference."
The hours that followed blurred together. They were given food military rations that tasted like cardboard. David's hand was properly treated by an actual doctor, who informed him dispassionately that he'd likely never regain full function in it. Vivian sat beside him through it all, her presence the only thing keeping him grounded.
As dawn broke through the warehouse's broken windows, painting everything in shades of grey and gold, their final transport arrived. A nondescript van, the kind used by thousands of businesses every day. Anonymous. Forgettable.
"One last thing," the Captain said as they prepared to leave. "Your old lives are over. David and Vivian Heasley died in a home invasion tonight. Tragic story. The children are missing, presumed taken by the attackers. There will be a manhunt, of course, but no leads. Eventually, the case will go cold. We've had six months to craft this narrative. Every detail has been considered. Every loose end tied."
"Our families," Vivian said. "Our friends"
"Will mourn you," the Captain finished. "Some of them have been prepared for this possibility Monroe's people have been doing subtle groundwork for months. 'Vivian's been looking stressed.' 'David seems worried about something.' 'They've been getting threats about her research.' It's cleaner this way. The dead don't cause problems."
As they climbed into the van, David took one last look at the warehouse, at the dawn sky beyond. Somewhere out there, the world was waking up to a normal day. People were brewing coffee, checking their phones, complaining about traffic. They had no idea that the future had just been stolen, locked away by men who claimed to act in their best interests.
The van doors closed with a final click. In the darkness, Vivian found his hand again.
"David," she whispered, and there was something in her voice he'd never heard before a tremor of guilt that went deeper than their current situation. "Whatever happens at the lab... whatever you see... remember that I love you. That everything I did was to protect our family."
"What are you talking about?" David asked, but she squeezed his hand harder.
"Just remember. Please."
The Captain's voice cut through from the front. "ETA twenty minutes. Your children are waiting, Dr. Heasley. I suggest you prepare yourself for a reunion."
David felt Vivian tense beside him. There was something she wasn't telling him, something beyond the portal technology. After fifteen years of marriage, he knew when his wife was keeping secrets. But now, with their children held hostage and their lives in ruins, what could be worse than what they'd already endured?
"Together," he whispered, trying to reassure her.
"Always," she replied, but the word sounded like a prayer now desperate and uncertain.
The van pulled away from the warehouse, carrying them toward her laboratory. Toward their children. Toward answers David wasn't sure he wanted to know. Behind them, the sun continued to rise, painting the sky the color of blood. The same red, David realized with a chill, that Vivian had described when she'd first told him about the portal's energy signature.
Scarlet. Like a warning. Like a prophecy.
In the growing light of dawn, David Han held his wife's trembling hand and tried not to think about why she'd asked for forgiveness before they'd even arrived. Tried not to wonder what could make a woman who'd just lost everything sound even more afraid.
The laboratory waited ahead, and with it, the truth about the scarlet portal that had destroyed their lives. But David suspected with the instinct that had made him a good detective that the real destruction hadn't even begun.
Some doors, once opened, demanded a price far greater than anyone imagined. And as the van carried them toward that final threshold, David couldn't shake the feeling that they were about to pay it in full.