Chapter 21 – Silas - The Alliance That Isn’t #2
"And if Drazen's watching in real-time?"
His expression tightens. "If Drazen is physically in that penthouse when we move, we abort. No exceptions. He's not the kind of man you challenge head-on and walk away from."
He says it like a prayer.
I close my eyes, running through scenarios. If Drazen's there, we're dead. If Dom stays, we're dancing on a razor's edge. The difference between extraction and execution is a matter of seconds and the skills of people whose faces I've never seen.
"Walk me through the full plan," I say.
Elias pulls a blank sheet and a pen from his jacket, then he begins to write.
A timeline written in tight block letters.
"9:50 PM: Ramon triggers the false manifest. Makes the call that sends Dom and his men to the docks.
9:55 PM: Keisha activates the jammer. A camera loop goes live simultaneously.
10:00 PM: We enter through the parking garage. Marco drives—clean plates, diesel van, staged as maintenance. He'll wait in the alley behind the building, engine running.
10:02 PM: We kill the power to the north stairwell panel. Service lift goes to manual. We ride it to the subfloor corridor.
10:04 PM: We climb the vent shaft to the roof access hatch. Ramon provides overwatch from the roof—anyone tries to follow us up, he handles it.
10:06 PM: We breach the penthouse level. Keisha stays at the shaft exit, jamming communications so guards can't radio for backup.
10:08 PM: We extract Lydia and reverse course. Down the shaft, through the corridor, into the van.
10:10 PM: We're gone before anyone realizes what happened."
He slides the timeline across the table. "Two minutes in the lift. Two minutes in the shaft. Two minutes to grab her. That's six minutes inside enemy territory. Anything longer, and we're compromised."
I study the plan, turning it over in my mind. "Who goes in for her? You or me?"
Elias meets my eyes. "Both. You know the layout. I know Drazen's people. We move together, cover each other's blind spots. When we find her, whoever's closest gets her out. No ego. No hesitation."
"And if she doesn't trust us?"
"She sent you to me," Elias says simply. "That means she trusts us enough to try. The rest we prove by getting her out alive."
I nod slowly. It's a solid plan. Tight. Dangerous. But possible.
"What about extraction after?" I ask. "We get her out of the building, then what?"
"She comes here first," Elias says. "This apartment's clean. You got it yourself, or trust whoever that got it arranged for you? Your people in the bureau?”
I nod. “My handler.”
“No one else knows about it except you and me now. We regroup, assess, figure out next steps. If you can get Bureau protection without exposing her, we go that route. If not, I've got safehouses she can disappear into until this blows over."
"You trust me with that?"
He looks at me for a long moment. "You're Bureau. I'm not. We don't operate by the same rules. But right now, we want the same thing—her safe. That's enough."
He stands, folding the floor plan back into his pocket. Tucks his pistol into the holster at his hip.
"One more thing," he says, pausing at the door. "If you make the wrong choice for the right reasons, I'll understand. But if you get her killed because you thought your badge was more important than her life, I'll put you in the ground myself."
"Understood."
He opens the door, steps into the hallway, and is gone.
I stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door.
Then I pull out my phone and look at the timeline he left behind.
9:50 PM. Less than twelve hours from now.
Twelve hours to prepare.
Twelve hours to make sure I don't fuck this up.
Because this time, I'm not standing outside her door doing nothing.
This time, I'm getting her out.
Or I'm dying trying.
My phone vibrates on the table.
Naomi.
I stare at it for a moment, then answer.
"Status?" she says. No greeting. Straight to business.
"Meeting's done, he wanted me to be on guard duty overnight." I tell her. "Drazen's satisfied. For now."
"And how did that go?"
"Handled. No issues. Lydia stayed quiet. I stayed professional. Drazen gave me the all-clear this morning."
There's a pause. I can hear her processing, weighing my tone against what she expected to hear.
"You sound tired," she says.
"I am tired. I stood guard outside a door for twelve hours while listening to her cry on the other side and couldn't do a damn thing about it."
The words come out sharper than I intended.
Another pause.
"Silas," Naomi says, her voice softer now. "I know that wasn't easy. But you did well. You passed the test. Drazen trusts you more now than he did forty-eight hours ago. That's progress."
"Progress," I repeat flatly.
"Yes. Progress." She exhales. "Look, I know you're worried about her.
But you need to step back and let this play out naturally.
Drazen's paranoid right now, but he's not stupid.
If he thought for sure that Lydia was the leak, she'd already be dead.
The fact that she's still breathing means he's not convinced. "
"Or he's taking his time."
"He's not taking his time, Silas. He's watching. Testing. And as long as she doesn't give him a reason to act, she'll be fine. She's valuable to him. He's not going to throw that away over suspicion."
I grip the phone tighter. "And if he finds something?"
"He won't. Because there's nothing to find." Naomi's tone is firm now. "Lydia's not the leak. We both know that. And Drazen will figure it out eventually. But only if we don't do something stupid that makes him second-guess himself."
"Define stupid."
"Stupid is you trying to play hero," she says bluntly. "Stupid is you breaking cover to extract her before the situation stabilizes. Stupid is you risking everything we've built for one person."
The words land like stones.
"She's not just 'one person,'" I say quietly.
"I know," Naomi replies, and there's something almost sympathetic in her voice.
"I know what she is to you. But that's exactly why you need to be smart about this.
If you go charging in, if you blow your cover trying to save her, you don't just burn yourself.
You burn her too. Because Drazen will see it for what it is—proof that she means something to you.
And the second he sees that, he'll use it against both of you. "
I don't answer.
Because she's right.
And I hate that she's right.
"Stay put," Naomi says. "Let the leak investigation run its course. Drazen's people will keep digging, and eventually they'll realize Lydia's not involved. Once that happens, the heat dies down, and we can reassess. But until then, you keep your head down and you stay in role. Understood?"
"Understood."
"Good." She pauses. "And Silas? You did the right thing last night. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you did. Walking away was the smart play."
I close my eyes. "Yeah."
"Get some rest. You've earned it."
She hangs up.
I set the phone down and stare at it.
Stay put. Let it play out naturally. Don't do anything stupid.
Naomi's advice is sound. Tactical. By-the-book.
And I'm about to ignore all of it.
Because Naomi's operating under the assumption that Drazen is rational. That he'll follow logic. That he'll wait for proof before he acts.
But I've seen the way Drazen looks at Lydia. The way he holds her on a leash, not because she's guilty, but because he can. Because control is more important to him than truth.
And I've heard Lydia cry through a locked door.
I've stood there with a key in my pocket, knowing I couldn't use it.
I've watched her whisper a name—Elias Voss—with desperation in her eyes, trusting that I'd understand. That I'd act.
Naomi wants me to wait.
Elias wants me to move.
And Lydia?
Lydia needs me to choose.
I grab the timeline Elias left behind.
9:50 PM.
Less than twelve hours.
I fold the paper and slip it into my jacket.
Then I stand, grab my keys, and head for the door.
Because Naomi's right about one thing: walking away last night was the smart play.
But I'm done being smart.