The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 2034

Wynter silently worked through possible plans. If they launched a frontal assault, the firepower gap would be too wide, as the enemy had mortars and firearms. It would most likely alert them, making it impossible to rescue the researchers, and accidents could easily occur.

The only option was infiltration, but Shadowless was extremely wary of strangers. Any unfamiliar person who appeared would be shot on sight unless they could find a suitable disguise.

Esmund's voice came from the cave entrance. "I'm back."

Hearing this, Wynter stood up and pulled aside the barbed wire at the entrance.

Esmund followed her inside and plopped down on the ground. "Two men came to patrol nearby, and I managed to draw them away. It's a good thing I reacted quickly, or there would've been trouble."

The lines between Wynter's brows deepened. "According to the map, a frontal approach won't work. Do you have the schedule of their guard rotations?"

Esmund replied, "I've looked into that. Patrols change shifts every hour. There's a handover interval at 2:00 am. Compared to daytime, patrols are much weaker during that time as the number of men is reduced by half.

"But every guard carries a walkie-talkie, and they check the headcount every 30 minutes. If the numbers don't match, they'll be on alert immediately."

Wynter furrowed her brows. These armed forces were truly troublesome to deal with. This kind of defensive awareness didn't seem like something a mere warlord could come up with—it felt more like someone was advising them.

"Right, I just remembered something," Esmund said as he looked at Wynter. "On the first level, there's a small wooden hut where they keep the generator. Only one person guards it. He's a hopeless drunk and gets wasted every night. Above that hut is a ventilation duct that seems to lead directly to the lab."

Wynter's eyes lit up as she figured that might work. "Ventilation duct? Try to confirm that. It'd be perfect if it really leads into the lab and an adult can fit through it."

"It should be doable." Then, Esmund seemed to recall something. "I overheard others saying that the ventilation duct is an old leftover structure. A skinny person can pass through it and reach different areas. The only uncertainty is whether Barry tampered with it."

Wynter traced the duct's position on the map. "We'll try it if it's viable. When the plan starts, find a way to lure the guard away from the hut, and I'll enter the lab through the duct."

Esmund's voice grew low. "No, that's too dangerous. Leaving aside the duct's uncertain condition, you can't even get through the cave entrance. It's heavily guarded. There's no escape if you're discovered."

Wynter's gaze deepened. "These are top-tier researchers. I need to make sure they're rescued safely. Every extra minute they stay inside puts them at greater risk."

Esmund raised his head toward her. "I'll try to inspect the duct and gather as much detail as I can for you tomorrow."

"Alright. I'll trouble you with that, then."

A faint smile graced Esmund's face. "It's no trouble. I'm more than willing for Cascadia. I've never wronged my country or my people in this life... Only my wife and child."

Wynter glanced sideways. "Have you been stationed overseas all these years?"

"Yes. I follow orders whenever Cascadia needs me," he replied.

Sitting on the ground, Esmund lifted his head to look eastward—Cascadia's direction. "I feel bad for my wife. Since marrying me, she's hardly had nights sharing a bed with me. Instead, I've been overseas on missions, scheming and battling others."

Wynter's eyes grew solemn. "There can be no home without a country. Only through sacrifices like yours can Cascadia enjoy peace."

Esmund's voice rose with fervor. "Yes, there can be no home without a country! My superiors told me that I can return to Cascadia once this mission is completed. I plan to spend the rest of my time with my wife and child."

Wynter's lips curved faintly. "Let's work hard together and finish the mission as soon as possible."

"Alright!" Esmund agreed enthusiastically.

Then, he checked the time. "It's getting late. I'd better go, or people will get suspicious."

As he walked toward the cave entrance and was about to leave, he suddenly stopped. "By the way, I just remembered something. Barry said an expert will be arriving in the next two days. That might be a breakthrough."

Wynter's eyes brightened. "How much do you know about this expert's identity?"

Esmund turned back. "I asked Barry, but he didn't say much. The expert should arrive the afternoon after tomorrow. His name is Richie Millard, and he's from Magota.

"Nobody knows exactly what he looks like, only that he wears gold-rimmed glasses, carries a black briefcase, has an aloof and arrogant nature, and dislikes being contradicted. He also has a female assistant who handles his social dealings."

Wynter's eyes turned as she pondered. "That should be enough information."

Esmund turned around again. "Then, I'll head back. If there's an emergency, contact the fisherman who brought you here. He's under me—he won't betray you."

Wynter nodded. "Alright. You're in a wolf's den, so stay safe."

Esmund chuckled. "Of course. I have to live long enough to return to my wife and child."

After watching him leave, Wynter gathered the map from the ground and retraced her way back to where the fishing boat was moored.

The fisherman, holding an oar, sat quietly at the bow. "You're back, miss."

Wynter gave a light nod. "Esmund told me you're his contact."

The fisherman smiled. "That's right. Alright, then, I'll take you back now. Please, get on board."

...

Meanwhile, Dalton had just closed his laptop when his gaze suddenly hardened as he heard a knock at the door.

He walked over, and as soon as he opened it, a man staggered drunkenly inside—it was Krugen, who had come along with them from Southeast Ibira.

Dalton frowned. "What are you doing here?"

Krugen grinned at him. "Oh… It's you, my brother-in-law."

Hearing the words brother-in-law, Dalton's frown gradually eased. "What are you here for?"

Krugen collapsed clumsily onto the couch. "I'm here to… to see Wynter!"

Just then, footsteps sounded at the doorway—it was Wynter, who had returned from Sedros. As soon as she stepped inside, the smell of alcohol hit her, and she wrinkled her nose.

Dalton pointed at Krugen, slumped on the couch. "He came looking for you, completely wasted."

Following his gaze, Wynter asked, "Krugen, what do you want from me?"

Krugen turned his head. "Wyn... Wynter, you're back."

Wynter pinched her nose, frowning. "You'd better have a good reason for this."

Krugen slowly stood up. "Wynter, why is it that there are so many things I can't decide for myself?"

Wynter's voice was cool and even. "Get to the point."

Her icy tone seemed to sober him up a little. "It's just… my father won't listen to me."

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