The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 641

Chapter 641 Inferno Rescue

Chapter 641 Inferno Rescue

She had no time to waste; every second, the flames grew bolder.

Moments later, thunder from the rotore

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rolled across the night as the helicopter lifted, casting frantic shadows over the burning estate before banking toward the heart of the disaster.

Billowing smoke coiled upward, streaked with embers. Detonations snapped like artillery in the gloom, each blast tilting the temperature toward unbearable and marking the estate as a place no sane person would approach.

The three–story manor had folded in on itself; only jagged corners jutted from the blaze like the bones of a dead beast.

Outbuildings that once ringed the property crumpled with it, feeding fresh timber to the inferno.

Quinn steadied the helicopter over the epicenter, sliding into a precise low hover. Searchlights pierced the smoke, sweeping methodically for any trace of Raymond’s lean frame or Laura’s slight figure.

Still entranced, Laura would move only if commanded; left alone, she would stand amid the chaos like a doll. Raymond, duty–bound, would never abandon her, even if the sky itself came crashing down.

If he were alone, Quinn had no doubt Raymond could have slipped out already; the man was a legend for

a reason.

But protecting another life changed the equation, multiplying every hazard.

They had to locate the pair fast; strong winds were fanning the flames, and each gust turned bright tongues of fire into walls.

The firefighters were en route, but extinguishing such an inferno would take time they didn’t have.

Worse, nobody knew how many additional charges Joaquin had buried; at any heartbeat, the ground could bloom with fresh explosions.

“Do you see them yet?” Julius asked, tension coiling in his voice even tighter than the bandages on his ribs.

He understood that if anything truly happened to Laura and Raymond today, Quinn would carry the guilt like a stone chained to her heart for the rest of her life.

“Not yet,” Quinn answered, voice low and steady, the kind of deliberate calm she forced upon herself whenever chaos tried to claw at the cockpit.

Losing that calm, she knew, invited mistakes–small slip’s that, in a place already burning and crumbling. could cost lives faster than any flame.

“Julius, I’m dropping us even lower,” Quinn warned. “The cabin will heat up–hold on.”

“Understood,” Julius replied with a brief nod, bracing himself against the vibrating frame.

The helicopter sank through acrid columns of smoke, veering away from firestorms and yawning gaps

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Chapter 641 Inferno Rescue

where floors had already fallen.

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Quinn’s eyes combed the debris while Julius scanned the rubble below, both refusing to blink until they spotted their friends.

Suddenly, another section collapsed ahead; through the settling dust she saw Raymond charging out, Laura slung over his shoulder, sprinting for open ground.

There!

“Julius, open the door!” Quinn shouted, hands dancing over the controls at the very edge of the machine’s tolerance.

Below them, the building continued to unravel; if the whole mass let go, shattered brick would swat both Raymond and the helicopter from the sky.

Every second mattered; they had to haul him aboard before gravity claimed the structure for good.

Raymond understood, too; he ran as if distance alone could beat the collapse, boots drumming a desperate rhythm across the smoking ground.

A veteran of the Falcon Special Forces, his body answered demands most people never dared voice; even burdened with Laura, he moved like a bullet.

From the cockpit, Quinn flicked the landing light in quick pulses–the old Falcon code for Safe Path North.

Raymond caught the signal and swerved toward the hovering craft without breaking stride.

Quinn shoved the helicopter down, blades nearly kissing the roofline.

When Raymond leapt beneath the skids, Julius leaned out, caught his forearm, and heaved him–and the unconscious Laura–into the cabin.

Julius swung the hatch shut, seals locking with a metallic hiss.

Quinn yanked the stick back and kicked the rudder, wrenching the helicopter upward at a savage angle.

A thunderous blast followed.

The building disintegrated beneath them barely five seconds later, a wave of dust‘ clawing where they had hovered.

“As expected of you, Captain Bridger. You haven’t lost a step,” Raymond said, exhaling hard. “Just like the old days.”

“Thank you for the hustle, Raymond,” Quinn replied. “You earned the exhaustion.”

“Call this hard? Please,” he laughed, waving the compliment away. “I’ve had worse morning jogs.”

“Let’s clear the zone and find someplace safe to set her down,” Quinn said, eyes already mapping the night

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Chapter 641 Inferno Rescue

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horizon.

Joaquin staggered toward the massive oak that once shaded the villa’s courtyard, every step a drunken lurch through dust and smoke.

He was soaked in blood, clothes hanging in shreds; both legs buckled beneath him, punished by the bomb’s fading shockwave he had outrun–or tried to.

A jagged fragment jutted from his chest, each heartbeat sending a fresh ribbon of red sliding down his

torso.

But he seemed numb to the pain; his gaze stayed fixed on the oak, as though that silent tree held the only answer left in the world.

The villa burned like a funeral pyre, flames roaring through every window and shattered doorway. Yet beneath the ancient pak, at the courtyard’s edge, the air lay unnervingly still, as if the fire dared not trespass on that sacred circle.

Years ago–more than twenty, by his reckoning–he had turned the villa into a buried minefield, wiring explosives beneath corridors, bedrooms, even the wine cellar, each charge patiently waiting for the moment his despair would ignite it.

In those raw months after his wife’s death, the thought of surviving seemed obscene. More than once, he pictured pressing a single switch and letting the flames consume them both–mansion, memories, and the hollow man he had become.

Yet even then, he could not lay a finger of dynamite near the oak.

That tree had been his wife’s favorite. Evening after evening, she would stand before it, eyes lost in its tangled canopy, as though it whispered secrets only she could hear.

Blood flooded his mouth with a metallic taste, yet he forced a crooked smile. “I’m almost there, my love. Just a few more steps, and we’ll finally meet again.”

A sudden tremor robbed his legs of strength, and he toppled onto the scorched earth with a ragged exhale.

Even so, the bullet–shredded muscles of his arms clawed at the gravel, dragging his body inch by stubborn inch toward the oak. Pride and longing together made every scrape across the ground feel like

redemption.

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