Chapter 31 #2
Riot nods. “The charges start the same night Bri was taken.”
My jaw tightens.
“For the first couple weeks, it just looked like someone with money moving around,” Riot continues. “But the pattern never stopped. Same card. Same type of hotels. Same booking style. Always one or two nights, then gone.”
“That’s not business travel,” Tank mutters.
“No,” Riot agrees. “That’s someone staying mobile on purpose.”
Switch crosses his arms. “So when did we connect it to her?”
Riot switches screens.
Security footage fills the display.
Hotel lobby cameras. Elevator feeds. Hallways. Different cities. Different dates.
Same woman.
Bri.
Walking beside the same man every time. Dressed too well. Too controlled. Her arm in a sling. Sometimes she’s looking down. Sometimes straight ahead. Never smiling.
My hands curl into fists on the table.
“We hacked hotel security feeds tied to those charges,” Riot says quietly. “She shows up again and again. Over six weeks’ worth of footage.”
Ghost nods. “Different cities. Different hotels. Same routine.”
“She’s never alone,” Riot adds. “He’s always with her. Always close.”
“And she doesn’t look drugged,” Switch says slowly.
“No,” Riot confirms. “But she doesn’t look free either.”
Dagger exhales through his nose. “Russian money?”
Riot nods. “Eastern. Routed through three layers. Took us time to peel it back, but Ghost caught it.”
Ghost leans back. “Same laundering structure they used two years ago. Same banks. Same shell movement.”
“They didn’t disappear,” Riot says. “They went underground and planned.”
Rev’s jaw tightens. “So where is she now?”
Riot pulls up a map.
“Most of the stays are short,” he says. “One night. Two max. But about ten days ago, that changed.”
Tank straightens. “How?”
“One location broke the pattern,” Riot replies. “They stayed.”
“How long?” Switch asks.
“A full week,” Ghost answers. “Too long for someone this paranoid unless they feel secure.”
Mason leans forward. “Where.”
“Outside Kansas City,” Riot says. “Industrial district. Old adaptive-reuse building. Warehouses on the lower floors. Private suites above.”
“That tracks,” I say quietly. “Hidden. Legit-looking. Easy to control.”
Dagger nods. “That’s not a transit stop. That’s a holding location.”
Rev slams his fist into the table. “Then what the fuck are we waiting for?”
“We’re not,” Mason says calmly. “But we don’t rush in blind.”
I lean forward, voice low and lethal. “If she’s there—”
“We bring her home,” Mason finishes. “Alive. Safe.”
“And the men holding her?” Piston asks.
Dagger’s smile is thin and merciless. “They don’t leave.”
Silence settles over the table, heavy and electric.
Mason looks around the room, meeting every set of eyes. “This is it. We go in and do this clean and leave no one behind. We made that mistake before.” His gaze lands on me last. “Blade.”
I nod once. “I’m ready.”
Because it’s been six weeks. Because I’ve seen her. Over and over. Trapped in hotel lobbies and elevators and hallways she didn’t choose. And because whoever thought they could keep her moving forever just made their first real mistake.
Mason doesn’t raise his voice.
He never does when it matters most.
“All right,” he says, palms braced on the table. “This is how we do it.”
Riot swivels the laptop, pulling up a floor layout Ghost stitched together from city permits, satellite imagery, and the hacked security feeds.
The building fills the screen.
Rectangular. Concrete. Four stories. Warehouses on the bottom two floors. Renovated residential suites stacked above them.
“Entry points?” Mason asks.
Ghost taps the screen. “Three viable ones. Loading dock on the west side. Main entrance off the street. Service stairwell on the east.”
“Too many eyes out front,” Switch says immediately. “Main entrance is a no-go.”
“Agreed,” Dagger says. “They’re expecting trouble from the street, not from behind.”
Riot zooms in on the west side. “Loading dock is active during business hours, but after midnight it’s mostly dead. Cameras cover the bay, but Ghost can loop them.”
Ghost nods. “I can blind the dock for twelve minutes. No more. After that, alarms auto-reset.”
“That’s our window,” Mason says.
Tank cracks his neck. “Who’s first in?”
“Ghost and Switch,” Dagger replies without hesitation. “Quiet entry. Power control. Kill the internal cams and lock the elevators.”
Switch nods once. “Elevators down traps everyone where they are.”
“And stairs?” Hawk asks.
“Blocked from the inside,” Ghost says. “Once we’re in, no one goes up or down without permission.”
Mason looks at me. “Blade.”
I don’t blink. “I’m going up.”
Dagger meets my eyes. “Not alone.”
“Didn’t say I was,” I reply.
“Hawk and Rev with you,” Mason says. “Third floor first. That’s where she’s been seen most consistently.”
My jaw tightens. “She’s coming out with me.”
“That’s the priority,” Mason agrees. “Extraction over blood.”
Rev snorts. “Blood still happens.”
“Controlled blood,” Mason says sharply. “We don’t collapse the building with her inside.”
Riot switches to another screen. “We’ve ID’d six regular guards. Rotating shifts. Two Russians. Four hired muscle. Light weapons. No body armor.”
“Inside security?” Piston asks.
“One man,” Riot replies. “Alexei. He doesn’t delegate.”
My fists clench.
Dagger leans forward. “Which means once Blade finds her, Alexei comes to him.”
Silence hits the table.
“That’s not a fight we rush,” Mason says calmly. “Blade gets Bri out first. Period.”
I look at him. “You think he lets her go?”
“No,” Mason says. “I think he follows.”
“Good,” I growl.
Mason ignores that. “Tank and Piston, you’re containment. Outside perimeter. Anyone tries to flee, they don’t make it to the street.”
Tank grins. “Copy that.”
“Cleanup?” Switch asks.
“After Bri is clear,” Dagger answers. “Then you sweep.”
Riot closes the laptop. “We hit at 2:10 a.m. Shift change overlap. Lowest foot traffic. Ghost loops cameras at 2:08. We’re in by 2:09.”
Mason straightens, looking around the table.
“No hero shit,” he says. “No freelancing. This is about bringing her home alive.”
His gaze locks on me.
“You see her,” he continues. “You don’t hesitate. You don’t explain. You get her out.”
I nod once. “Understood.”
“And Alexei?” Rev asks quietly.
Mason’s voice is ice. “If he stands between us and Bri, he dies.”
Dagger adds, softer but worse, “If he runs, we hunt.”
The room goes still.
Mason exhales slowly. “We move in two hours.”
Chairs scrape back. Men stand. Weapons get checked. Cuts get straightened.
I stay seated for one extra second, staring at the floor plan burned into my memory. Third floor. North wing. Suite with blackout curtains. I picture her there. Breathing. Waiting. Not knowing how close we are.
I push to my feet. “I’m bringing her home,” I say, not to the room, not to Mason, not to anyone in particular. Just to the universe. And this time, the universe is going to damn well listen.