Extra Basket-Chapter 93 - 80: Syndicate Arc (3)

Caleb Carter — Location Unknown

The cold tile floor sent a chill up Caleb’s spine as he stirred awake. The dull, humming buzz of fluorescent lights was the only sound that greeted him. His eyes blinked open, adjusting slowly to the sterile gray walls of the room.

No windows.

No clock.

No door handle on the inside.

Just a single cot, a flickering light overhead, and silence that felt like it had weight.

Caleb sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. "Where am I...?"

His voice echoed softly off the walls. He stood on shaky legs and paced toward the door — just as it clicked.

The metallic hiss of hydraulics.

It opened.

And standing in the doorway was a man he recognized — tall, dark-skinned, sharp suit. Calm demeanor. A face that had always seemed kind at school assemblies.

Mr. Charles Freeman.

Principal of San Diego Troops Pacific Ridge Middle School.

Caleb blinked, confused. "Mr. Charles?"

Freeman stepped inside slowly, hands behind his back, expression unreadable.

Caleb’s voice cracked slightly. "Why... why are you here? Why did you do this to me?"

Mr. Freeman just stood there, watching the boy. Then, with a tilt of his head and a faint shrug, he spoke:

"No hard feelings, kid."

Caleb stepped back instinctively. "I—I don’t understand. You and my dad... you were friends. He helped you... You said we were family."

Charles let out a cold breath, almost a scoff. "Yeah. Friends. But on the court, his team always won. Always. You know what that does to a man, son? To be almost good enough every year... only to watch someone else rise higher?"

His tone grew sharper, the smile dropping.

"Your father took opportunities from me. Scholarships. Titles. Exposure. Even now, in this city, no one remembers Charles Freeman. They remember ’Coach Carter.’"

Caleb’s voice trembled. "But... that’s not fair... I’m just a kid..."

"You’re his kid," Charles replied, stepping closer. "And that makes you leverage."

Caleb’s breath caught. For the first time, the weight of his situation pressed down on him like a vice.

"They’re going to come for me," Caleb said quietly, trying to stay brave. "My brother. My family. They’ll find me."

Charles didn’t flinch.

"I’m counting on it."

He turned, walking back toward the door. "Be patient, Caleb. The game’s only just begun."

With a mechanical hiss, the door slid shut, locking Caleb in the silence once more.

He collapsed onto the cot, biting back the urge to cry.

....

Date: July 17, 2010 – Friday

Location: The Young Residence, Sycamore Lane – Mouth of Wilson, VA

The creak of a door echoed softly through the hallway.

Brandon Young stepped out of his room, his backpack slung loosely over one shoulder. His eyes scanned the hallway, wary and quiet. Sunlight peeked through the blinds, casting long shadows on the hardwood floor.

His thoughts were sharp, focused.

(I need to go to school and meet with Ethan... before anything else happens.)

He tightened his grip on the strap of his backpack and took a cautious step forward.

Then—

"Stop right there."

Brandon halted.

Standing at the base of the stairs, arms crossed, face stern and shoulders stiff with tension, was his father—Gerald Young.

Brandon’s chest tightened, but he didn’t look away.

Gerald’s voice was cold. "Where do you think you’re going?"

Brandon held firm. "To school. I told you already—I’m going to do whatever it takes to stop this."

Gerald’s hands slowly clenched into fists at his sides, his voice low and bitter. "Do you really want to die that much, Brandon?" His jaw tensed. "What about your mother, huh? You want her to bury her only son?"

For a moment, Brandon hesitated.

Just then, from the nearby living room, Naia Young—his mother—stepped into view. Her eyes were red, tears streaking her cheeks as she pressed a hand over her mouth.

She didn’t speak at first—just looked at her son, then at the man she once loved.

"Please..." she finally said, her voice cracking. "Gerald... hunnn... please... just stop this. Surrender. Turn yourself in. Tell the police everything. We can still fix this... we can still protect Brandon."

Gerald shook his head slowly. His face twisted—not with regret, but with something colder. Hardened. Unrelenting.

"I told you all... I DID THIS FOR US!"

His voice boomed, echoing through the hallway like a thunderclap.

"For our future. For you, Naia! And for you, Brandon! But no one ever sees that, do they? Your father—the villain. The monster. But I made sure we’d never suffer again. Not like before."

Brandon looked into his father’s eyes—and for the first time, he saw the man not as a parent, but as someone lost in his own illusion.

A man who had traded his soul for something he thought was survival.

Brandon’s voice was quiet. Firm.

"...Even if it kills me, I’m still going to stop this. Because it’s the right thing to do."

Gerald’s eyes narrowed, breathing ragged.

For a few seconds, no one moved. The silence was suffocating.

Then, without another word, Brandon walked past his father. Not with fear—but with resolve.

Gerald didn’t stop him this time.

And Naia just sank to her knees, weeping quietly, as the door to the house creaked open and shut behind her son.

........

The morning heat was already thick, clinging to the air like sweat. The sunlight glinted off the aluminum bleachers behind the gym, where Ethan Albarado sat hunched, the hum of his laptop barely audible through his headphones. His eyes were bloodshot, fingers trembling slightly as he scrolled through the classified documents Brandon had sent him just hours earlier.

The world felt too quiet, like it was holding its breath.

"Subject ID: Caleb Carter"

That line stared back at him like a punch to the gut.

The connection had slammed into Ethan like a freight train: Jalen Carter’s little brother. The ace guard of Chicago Raptors, In the novel—strong, fast, dominant—sidelined with only a vague sentence from the author.

"Due to personal family issues, Jalen Carter was absent from the tournament game."

Chapter 50.

Ethan had brushed past it when he read the novel. Everyone had. But now?

It wasn’t just "family issues." It was trauma. A kidnapping.

Ethan gritted his teeth.

"The author just glazed over it like it was nothing..."

He clenched his fist so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The weight of knowing—really knowing—was so much worse than fiction.

Suddenly, footsteps.

Ethan’s heart jumped. He quickly minimized the file windows, slamming the laptop shut as he turned around.

Standing there, arms crossed and eyes suspicious, was Lucas Graves.

Lucas tilted his head. "What are you thinking?"

Ethan’s reply was too fast. "Nothing."

Lucas narrowed his eyes. "It’s 7 a.m., dude. School doesn’t start for another half hour. You’re not exactly the ’arrive early’ type."

Ethan avoided eye contact. "It’s not like that... you don’t need to know. Just drop it." freewebnøvel.com

Lucas stepped closer, smirking faintly. "Kinda sus, don’t you think? The way you’re acting?"

Ethan stood up, grabbing his bag. "Why are you here then? If I’m early, what does that make you? You’re usually late."

Lucas shrugged casually, looking around the bleachers. "I don’t know... something told me to come here. I thought maybe Brandon would show up."

Ethan squinted. "What kind of logic is that?"

Lucas smirked again. "Dunno. Must be my instinct."

Ethan’s eyes darkened.

(Tsk. This guy... his instincts are always dead-on. I can’t let him get involved. Not again. Not like that day...)

He looked down, tightening his grip on his laptop.

(It’s dangerous. We have to rescue Caleb even if It’s already too late... And I can’t let Lucas risk his life too.)

Lucas stepped onto the bleachers, gaze flicking to the laptop.

"Ethan."

"...What?"

"You’re not telling me everything."

Ethan stayed quiet.

Lucas sat beside him.

"I’m not an idiot, you know."

Ethan slowly looked at him.

"You’re involved in something," Lucas said. "And even if you don’t want to say it, I can feel it. So either you trust me... or you lie and carry that weight alone."

The silence that followed felt heavy. Too heavy for two middle school kids.

But Ethan just sighed and turned away.

"...I’m not dragging you into this, Lucas."

Lucas didn’t move. "Then I’ll walk in myself."

Ethan blinked.

Lucas smiled. Just slightly.

"I don’t care what it is. If someone’s in danger, if someone needs help... I’m not standing back."

Ethan stared at him, conflicted. Then he looked down at the laptop again.

(...Damn it. Why does this guy always make things harder)

Lucas’s quiet declaration still lingered in the air when—

"Ethan... Lucas?"

Both boys turned at the same time.

Standing just a few feet away, bathed in morning sunlight, were Evan Cooper—tall, composed, slightly smirking—and beside him, shorter and twitchier, stood Louie Gee Davas, fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie.

Lucas squinted. "Why are you here, senior?"

Evan gave a casual shrug. "Well, we just figured you two might be lurking around here before class. Thought we’d check."

Louie tilted his head toward Ethan. "Lucas... what are you talking to Ethan about?"

Before Ethan could stop him, Lucas smirked. "How about you call me senior first?"

Louie frowned and looked away. "Hmph."

Lucas chuckled, and Evan rolled his eyes.

Ethan sighed deeply. What was a one-man mission—two, if you count Brandon—was suddenly becoming a crowd.

(This wasn’t supposed to happen... It was just me and Brandon. The fewer people who know, the safer. Dammit...)

He closed his laptop slowly, slipping it into his backpack with calculated ease, like hiding a weapon.

"So," Evan said, glancing from Ethan to Lucas, "you both up to something sketchy... or just enjoying the sunrise?"

Lucas opened his mouth, but Ethan cut in quickly.

"Nothing. We were just talking."

Evan raised a brow. "Sure didn’t sound like nothing when we were walking up."

Ethan’s lips tightened. "It’s personal."

Louie stepped closer. "Is something wrong, Ethan?"

Ethan shook his head, forcing a smile. "No. Just school stuff. Pre-game stress."

Lucas glanced at him, catching the lie—but said nothing.

Ethan looked at the group—Lucas, intuitive and stubborn; Evan, observant and sharp; and Louie, who, despite his youth, was always too curious for his own good.

(I can’t let them get involved. Brandon’s taking a huge risk already. If these guys get dragged in too...)

(If something happens to them... That blood’s on me.)

"Look," Ethan said firmly, "you guys should head in. School’s starting soon."

Lucas raised a brow. "Aren’t you coming?"

Ethan nodded slowly. "Yeah... I’ll be right behind you."

For a moment, none of them moved.

Then Evan sighed. "Alright. But whatever you’re hiding... we’ll find out eventually."

Louie looked like he wanted to press further but followed Evan as he walked off, hands in pockets.

Lucas lingered a second longer. His eyes locked with Ethan’s. Not suspicious... not confrontational... but concerned.

Then he turned and followed.

When they were out of sight, Ethan let out a long, shaky breath. His body tensed like a spring.

(I have to move faster... Before they find out the truth on their own. Before they get caught in it.)

He opened his phone. A text from Brandon.

"I’m already halfway to school?"

Ethan’s thumb hovered over the screen.

Then he typed:

"Okay... I wait."

.....

[Lucas Side]

As they walked past the library wing, Lucas suddenly slowed his pace.

"Guys."

His voice was low but firm.

Evan and Louie turned toward him.

Lucas looked ahead, making sure Ethan wasn’t nearby before whispering.

"Ethan... He seems like he knows what’s going on. With Brandon."

Evan raised a brow. "Seriously?"

Lucas gave a silent nod. "He was staring at his laptop like the world was ending. He said it was ’nothing’—but we both know Ethan. He only shuts down like that when it’s something big."

Louie’s eyes widened, his voice coming out more anxious than he meant.

"What did he say? What exactly did Ethan tell you?"

Lucas frowned, glancing at the floor as they kept walking slowly.

"Nothing specific. He clammed up fast. Said it was personal."

Evan sighed. "Classic."

Louie clenched his fists, remembering something—a memory he couldn’t forget.

"...You think this is like before? That thing underground...? When we almost—"

Lucas nodded solemnly. "Yeah. My gut’s telling me this isn’t just nothing... There’s danger in Ethan’s eyes again. And Brandon being involved? That’s too much of a coincidence."

Louie bit his lip. "So what do we do?"

Lucas looked around once more before answering.

"We follow him."

To be continue