Chapter 28
Ty
This was almost over.
The relief I’d felt a few minutes ago when Charlotte’s quiet voice came through the comms—“Deployment complete”—had been staggering. She’d done it. Not that I’d truly had any doubts.
Now it was just a matter of taking them down. George and his guys would be moving in soon. They just wanted everything recorded first, every word these bastards said catalogued for the prosecutors who’d eventually put them away for life.
I wanted them to hurry the hell up. The sooner this was done, the sooner I could take Charlotte to a beach somewhere.
Maybe Key West. Find some little place with white sand and blue water and not let her out of bed for a week.
When I finally did let her up, it would only be to see her in a bikini, watch her brilliant mind finally shut off and just exist without equations or protocols or psychopaths trying to weaponize her work.
I turned my focus back to the mission. The warehouse was exactly what you’d expect for an arms deal—abandoned, half the windows broken, rust bleeding down the corrugated metal walls like old wounds. The kind of place where bad things happened and nobody asked questions.
Ethan was doing great, not that I’d expected anything less.
He stood in the center of the main floor, talking to the three sellers like they were discussing baseball scores instead of weapons that could kill unknown numbers of people at the push of a button.
His body language was relaxed, casual. Just another day at the office for the head of Citadel Solutions.
“The demonstration will exceed your expectations,” one of the sellers was saying. Mid-forties, Eastern European accent, the kind of dead eyes that said he’d watched people die and ordered lunch right after. “The Cascade Protocol represents the future of targeted elimination.”
I was tucked away in what had probably been a janitor’s closet once upon a time.
Close enough to move fast when needed, but not within sight line.
The space reeked of industrial cleaner and decay, and something skittered in the walls behind me.
Probably rats. At this point, rats were the least of our problems.
Ben’s voice came through my earpiece. “Southwest corner secure.”
Fifteen minutes on the dot. Ben was nothing if not precise.
“Northeast secure,” Logan added a beat later. “No movement.”
I waited for Donovan to check in. Five seconds. Ten. Nothing.
I was about to key my mic and ask for his status when the main door scraped open. The sound echoed through the warehouse like fingernails on steel. My hand moved to my weapon as Darcy Giglio walked in, flanked by two men built like they bench-pressed small cars for fun.
Between them, they were escorting Charlotte.
Oh holy fuck.
My heart slammed against my ribs hard enough to crack them.
Even from my position, I could see the bruising on her face.
Purple bloomed along her left cheekbone, and her lower lip was split.
But it was her eyes that gutted me—wide and terrified, darting around the warehouse like a trapped animal looking for escape routes that didn’t exist.
“Gentlemen,” Darcy announced, her voice carrying that same pleasant tone she’d used when discussing weekend plans in the Vertex break room. “I’m afraid your buy is a setup.”
The sellers went rigid. Hands moved toward weapons with the speed of people who’d survived this long by shooting first and asking questions never.
“How do you know this?” The lead seller’s accent thickened with anger.
Ethan played his part perfectly, confusion and concern mixing on his face. “What’s happening here? We had a deal—”
“Oh, we still have a deal,” Darcy said, pushing Charlotte forward. Charlotte stumbled, catching herself just before she fell. “But Mr. Volkov here isn’t who he claims to be. As soon as I found Charlotte nearby, I knew this sale wasn’t legitimate.”
She grabbed Charlotte’s chin. When Charlotte tried to jerk away, one of Darcy’s goons grabbed her shoulders, holding her in place.
“This is Dr. Charlotte Gifford,” Darcy continued. “The genius behind the Cascade Protocol. And she’s been working with the cops.”
“Should we move in?” George’s voice crackled through the comms. He could hear what was going on.
“Negative,” I breathed into my mic. “Not yet.”
If they moved in now, both Charlotte and Ethan would be dead before the first agent cleared the door. These weren’t street thugs. They were professionals who’d shoot their way out and worry about the body count later.
“Ben, get to Donovan.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Now.”
If Charlotte was here, something had gone very wrong at Donovan’s position. I feared the worst but couldn’t let my mind go there. Not if I wanted to remain functional.
“Ty Hughes must be here somewhere,” Darcy said, scanning the warehouse with calculating eyes. “Charlotte’s protector. Her boyfriend.” She raised her voice, calling out to the shadows. “I know you’re watching, Ty. Ready to play the big hero.”
I didn’t do anything to give away my position. She was guessing.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Darcy continued, pressing the muzzle of her Glock against Charlotte’s temple.
Charlotte’s whole body went rigid, a small sound escaping her throat.
“You’re going to come out, Ty. Right now.
I won’t kill her—that would be wasteful.
But kneecaps? Those are surprisingly optional for someone who spends most of their time sitting at a computer. ”
The Glock moved down, aimed at Charlotte’s left knee.
“Three seconds,” Darcy said pleasantly. “Two—”
I stepped out of the closet, hands visible but ready. “I’m here.”
Every gun in the room swiveled toward me. I kept my eyes on Charlotte, trying to project calm I didn’t feel. Trying to tell her without words that this would be okay, that I’d get her out of this. Even though I had no fucking idea how.
“Ah, there he is. Hey, Ty,” Darcy said, like we were old friends meeting for coffee. “So nice of you to join us. Disarm him.”
One of her goons moved forward, professionally patting me down. He took my Glock, the backup piece from my ankle, the knife from my boot. When he found my earpiece, he yanked it out and crushed it under his boot.
“Can’t have you calling for help,” Darcy said.
Now that I was closer, I could get a better look at Charlotte. The bruising was worse than I’d thought—purple-black spreading from her cheekbone up toward her eye. Her face was streaked with dried tears, and she was shaking, small tremors running through her like electric current.
I tried once again to give her a look of reassurance, but what the hell could I promise? We were outnumbered, outgunned, and the cavalry couldn’t move without getting us all killed.
“This changes things,” one of the sellers said. His accent had gone from thick to nearly impenetrable. “The Protocol has been neutralized. She did something.” He gestured at Charlotte with his weapon. “The access we paid for no longer works.”
“So we kill her,” another seller suggested with a shrug.
“Let’s not be too quick,” Darcy said. “She can fix it. Can’t you, Charlotte? You can reverse whatever countermeasure you deployed. And then you’ll come with us. Create more weapons. Better weapons. You’re worth more alive than any single sale.”
Charlotte’s head snapped up, fresh terror flooding her features.
The buyers exchanged glances, some silent communication passing between them. Finally, the lead one nodded. “Perhaps. But these two”—he gestured at Ethan and me—“they die now. We cannot leave witnesses.”
“No.”
The word burst from Charlotte with enough force to make everyone turn. She straightened despite the grip on her shoulders, lifting her chin in that defiant way I’d seen when she refused to give up on a problem.
“I’ll do whatever you want,” she said, her voice steadier now. “I’ll reverse the countermeasure right now, right here. I’ll come with you, create whatever weapons you need. But only if you don’t kill them. If you let them go.”
The lead seller laughed, an ugly sound that echoed off the metal walls. “You think you have leverage here? We can simply make you do the work.”
I could not allow myself to think of the ways they could torture her into working.
Charlotte turned to Darcy. “You know I’m the best at what I do. You’ve seen my work. You know what I’m capable of.”
“Yes,” Darcy agreed slowly.
“Then you also know I’m smart enough to hide things.
To build in delays and malfunctions you’ll never catch.
If you let your friends kill them”—she nodded toward Ethan and me—“I swear that nothing I ever make for you will work correctly. Every weapon, every protocol, every line of code will have something wrong with it. Something small. Something that won’t show up in testing but will fail when you need it most.”
Her voice grew stronger with each word. “I’m smart enough to do it, and I’m definitely smart enough to hide it.
You’ll never know if the next weapon you sell will work or blow up in your client’s face.
I’ll take you down from the inside, and you won’t see it coming until your reputation is destroyed and your clients are hunting you down. ”
I wanted to tell her to be quiet. Every word brought more danger down on her head.
They’d just find ways to hurt her until she complied.
Torture her until she gave them what they wanted.
And none of it mattered anyway because she couldn’t let the Cascade Protocol be reactivated.
This was bigger than any of us. A weapon that could not be allowed to be used by terrorists.
Plus, I knew with the certainty of someone who’d seen too many deals go bad that they’d kill Ethan and me anyway. The moment Charlotte gave them what they wanted, we were dead.
But Darcy was studying Charlotte with something like admiration. “She’s not bluffing. I’ve worked with her for three years. When Charlotte Gifford makes a promise, she keeps it.”