Chapter Ten
The study had gone still, the air thick with the scrape of maps and the echo of unspoken things.
When the latch turned, every head lifted.
Viper stepped through the door, silence following him in. He brought a power that pulled your focus without trying. Tall, weathered, eyes like chipped glass. He crossed to the table, gaze sweeping the maps before settling on Dave.
Dave didn’t blink. “You ready to tell us the details of your run-in with Titus?”
“I thought the SecDef told you,” Viper said.
“Will only told me you had a run-in, not the details of what actually happened.”
Dave felt Stone shoot him a hard look, and he held it without flinching. He hadn’t deliberately withheld what he’d learned about Viper and Titus, but he’d chosen silence all the same.
Viper’s gaze stayed on the map, but his voice dropped into something lower, almost gravel ground against steel.
“Five years back. San Pedro, like you said. Genesis was just a thought. I was on a joint operation with DHS, which was supposed to be a routine interdiction alongside my military unit. The tip said trafficked kids were being moved through shipping containers.”
Viper drew a slow breath, eyes narrowing like he was seeing it unfold again.
“No op stays routine for long. The dock was quiet, too quiet. Smell of diesel thick in the air, cargo cranes frozen like skeletons against the skyline. We cracked the first container.” His jaw shifted. “Half a dozen kids, alive but barely. Malnourished. Eyes so wide they couldn’t even cry.”
Winter sat stunned, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Rip leaned forward, gazing at the floor, forearms braced on his knees.
“The next one,” Viper went on, “no one alive. You never forget the silence. Not screams. Not chaos. Just silence.”
He leaned back in his chair, but his eyes were locked somewhere far off.
“That’s when he stepped out of the dark. Clean, sharp, like he belonged there.” Viper rubbed at his face.
“We fought. He got the upper hand.”
The silence in the room swam thick. Dave’s fingers clenched on the desk, then stilled.
“He said…It’s Titus…don’t forget my name… just before he shoved a knife in my ribs.” Viper’s mouth twisted.
Stone’s storm-colored eyes narrowed, unreadable.
“I told him I’d put him down the next time we met.” Viper’s tone hardened. “And he laughed.”
He let the silence stretch, the team absorbing it.
“We did a full sweep, but there were no cameras, no prints, nothing to prove that he’d ever been there. Just him, saying his name, like it was a goddamned prayer.”
He’d had nightmares about that encounter, and he swallowed hard before continuing. “Two years later, I ran into him at an event in Chicago, of all places. He acted like he didn’t know me.”
“What did he say?” Law frowned.
“He said…things aren’t what they appear to be.” Viper rubbed at his upper lip.
Stone fists clenched. “Why didn’t you arrest his fucking ass?”
“I tried, but he had the ear of the Attorney General. The charges didn’t stick because everything was circumstantial. No concrete evidence to be found. I couldn’t place him at the San Pedro crime scene.”
Viper finally looked at Stone and then Dave. “That’s it.”
Stone’s hands uncurled. “And you kept this from us because…?”
“Because it’s not something I’m proud of.” Viper’s eyes flicked up, hard.
“Hey…” Law’s voice cut in. “You didn’t plan on getting stabbed.”
The room stayed quiet for a moment, only the tick of the grandfather clock filling the air.
“Then we end it,” Dave said finally. “We use Genesis to cut Titus off at the knees, and we get evidence that sticks.”
Winter whistled low. “Why not just send in Erebus?”
Dave gave a pained sigh. He understood where Winter was coming from. Erebus should have been able to make Titus disappear from the face of the earth.
“It didn’t work. I sent in Erebus after Stone was shot. They can’t find Titus.”
“No shit?” Rip sounded shocked. Which was understandable—Erebus assassins were the best of the best.
“Titus is mine,” Viper’s voice fell like a crack of a whip. “Genesis will take him down.”
Plus, he had his own question for Titus. Why had the guy acted like they hadn’t met before?
“This isn’t a case of whose dick is bigger,” Winter began.
Dave held up a hand, cutting off Winter’s words. Winter stopped immediately, jaw tightening, but he gave a short nod and sat back. Whatever his opinion, Dave was a leader he respected.
“What do you see, Viper?” Dave motioned to Sparrow’s spread on the desk.
Viper tapped the map with one blunt finger. “Sparrow’s intel says Titus is in California and tied into the same ports. Same arteries. Only this time, he’s not moving shipping containers. He’s building a chain,” Viper said, refocusing everyone on the spread.
“Then that’s where we strike,” Dave said, his tone flat and final.
The room stayed locked on the map, every man bracing for the fight ahead.
By late afternoon, the front doors opened, and sunlight caught on the slight figure stepping in.
From the hallway, Dave watched Sage move with quiet wariness, a duffel slung over one shoulder. The young man’s frame was almost skinny but steady, curls of bright blond hair fell into sharp green eyes. There was a stillness about him—not hesitation—the kind honed by a life shaped through survival.
Viper followed two steps behind, presence heavy, watchful.
Not protective—Viper didn’t do protective—but Dave knew he had been the one to pull Sage in from the Nevada ranch, which made him Viper’s responsibility.
Sage might answer to YA and Azrael, but Dave remembered Azrael being clear: They were all to keep an eye on him.
Azrael was a pistol and never lost a moment to speak his mind, and this time was no exception.
Law leaned against the wall near Dave, a grin sliding into place the moment Sage crossed the threshold. “Well, look what the desert dragged in.”
Sage arched a brow. “You staring, or trying to remember my name?”
“I remember,” Law drawled. “Just not sure you remember me.”
Sage brushed past, duffel thumping against his leg. “Not your type.”
Law smirked, whiskey eyes bright, voice raspy. “You don’t know my type.”
“Don’t need to,” Sage said, dry as bone. “You talk too much to be dangerous.”
Viper’s gaze flicked once between them, lips twitching, but he said nothing.
Sage ignored Law, dropping his overnight bag by the wall, and he moved deeper into the house without another word.
The war room sat deep in the estate’s old wing, a bunker-like space built for strategy, its walls lined with maps and comms equipment.
When the last man filed into the room, Sage turned to Dave and set a folder on the table, his voice calm.
“From Morrison’s phone, I got intel that we are dealing with triplets—Titus, Tatum, and Tanis,” Sage said.
“We know that.” Viper frowned.
“That’s right, but for the rest of the room, I’ll continue.” Sage glared, and Viper held up his hands.
“Out of the three brothers, only Tatum and Titus are alive. Tanis is dead—killed by Real. Nothing new there, but it matters because their histories overlap in ways that make clean intel hard to track,” Sage said. “If I had prints or DNA, it might be easier, but I don’t, so…”
“Did you get a photo?” Dave asked.
“Unfortunately, no. They’re very…careful,” Sage said.
Law gave a low whistle. “I wonder if Tatum’s just as dirty as Titus?”
“If Tatum is not a scumbag,” Viper said, eyes narrowing as they tracked the maps, “we could play one brother against the other.”
Dave shook his head once, final. “Not until we know where their loyalties lie. Until then, assume both are just as dirty.”
Viper gave a small nod. “Fair enough.”
Clinton reappeared like he’d been waiting for the perfect beat, sliding in without sound. “Dinner will be served shortly,” he said, tone smooth. His eyes skimmed the room, pausing a fraction too long on Law before moving back to Dave. “Shall I set another place?”
“For everyone,” Dave said curtly.
Law leaned back, a smirk tugging his mouth. “Guy hovers like a drone. Doesn’t he ever shut down?”
“Never,” Stone said, dry.
Clinton’s expression didn’t flicker, though his jaw tightened. He inclined his head and vanished again.
Rip snorted. “Creeps me out more than the mercs.”
Winter snorted on a laugh.
Dave let the comments die. “Eat, take some time to relax and think about what we discussed, and get some sleep. We’ll go over the next steps in the morning.”
His gaze swept the table, pinning each man in turn.
“Until Titus is cut off, nobody breathes without my say.”
Law raised a hand in salute. “Yes, sir.”
Stone didn’t move, but his eyes held Law’s a half-beat longer.
Dave caught it, then shut the folder on Sparrow’s drop with finality. His finger pressed once against Port Hueneme on the map.
“This is where the chain tightens,” he said. “We don’t move until we have a plan in place.”
He pushed back from the desk, finality in the scrape of the chair. The team followed, the weight of unanswered questions marching with them into the evening.