Chapter 1112: Rescue Preparation

Oscar left the palace, using Queen Carol's influence to secure Theodore's release from the police station. They checked into a hotel.

Theodore immediately asked, "Did you see Besse?"

"I did," Oscar replied, "but my primary target for cooperation isn't her."

Theodore was surprised. "What?"

"Queen Carol," Oscar stated.

"The queen?"

"I overheard her arguing with Doyle at the palace. She's more powerful and therefore more likely to cooperate."

"What's the next step?"

"First, we locate Doyle and Hannah's residence. Once Besse draws Doyle away, we take Hannah."

"So we wait for them to move?"

"Yes," Oscar nodded. Theodore nodded as well, then added, "Oscar, do you think Hannah will come with us willingly?"

Oscar remained silent.

Theodore speculated, "If there's something between Hannah and Doyle..." He considered the possibility that Doyle's kidnapping of Hannah stemmed from Queen Carol's disapproval of their relationship.

"I'll help her," Oscar said, "help her be with Doyle, for real."

"How?"

Oscar glanced at Theodore but didn't answer. Theodore didn't press further; Oscar's actions always spoke louder than words. This evasion, however, was likely to prove problematic.

That night, Hannah lay in a luxurious villa—one of Doyle's many grand estates outside the palace. Heavily guarded and staffed, she had been held there for a week, confined but unharmed.

She awoke to noises downstairs. From her second-floor balcony, she saw someone assisting an injured Doyle onto a sofa. Turning away, she resolved to leave, regardless of his fate.

Doyle, noticing her departure, wondered if she no longer cared. He had hurt her, disappointed her.

Returning to bed, Hannah contemplated escape. The villa was heavily guarded, her phone confiscated, all avenues seemingly blocked. She had spent her days in her room, forcing herself to sleep, day and night. Tonight, however, sleep evaded her.

Suddenly, the door opened. Hannah pretended to sleep. Doyle visited daily, undeterred by her coldness, persistently seeking her proximity.

A dim light illuminated the room as Doyle sat beside her bed. "Hannah," he said. The use of her name, rather than "Besse," had begun subtly. She remained silent.

"My mother summoned me back to the palace tonight," Doyle explained, matter-of-factly, a habit he continued every day. "She wants me to stay, but I refused."

Hannah considered contacting Queen Carol for help.

"I shot myself in the leg to return tonight," Doyle continued, then asked pointedly, "Aren't you going to ask about me?"

Hannah remained silent, stunned by his drastic measure. She had overlooked his flaws, blinded by his attentiveness. She never imagined him capable of such extremes.

Doyle sighed. "Soon, I'll divorce Besse, and we can finally be together. You'll be my wife, Hannah. Goodnight." He kissed her forehead.

Hannah's clenched fists betrayed her composure. Doyle smirked, knowing she'd heard him. He left, unconcerned by her rejection, closing the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, Hannah opened her eyes. Escape was paramount.

The next day, Oscar received a call from Queen Carol.

"Mr. Commander,"

"Her Majesty,"

"Hannah is in a villa outside the palace with Doyle. It's guarded by Jolencami soldiers, loyal to the princes, outside my control. Rescuing Hannah will put you in direct conflict with them."

"How many?" Oscar asked calmly.

"Twenty, all armed," Carol replied.

"No problem," Oscar stated.

"This is incredibly risky. Failure could severely damage relations between our nations, and the Jolencami king will hold me accountable."

"What's your plan?" Oscar inquired, sensing Carol had a solution.

"Frankly," Carol said, "I don't want the king involved in Doyle's love life. It's a private matter."

"Agreed."

"So I don't want Northfield's military involved."

"If I needed military force, I wouldn't be here alone." Oscar affirmed.