Bay
Present day
I watch everything through the feed and through my own optics, the city stretching out beneath us as a low blur, a wide dark ribbon broken by scattered lights.
Ennio lies two feet to my left on the rooftop, prone behind the bulkhead with his rifle steady on a sandbag rest. He’s dressed in black like I am, soft ballistic plates under a cutaway vest, a thin mask covering half his face.
Our visors are live, so whatever he sees through his scope flashes across my HUD, and whatever I see bleeds into his. We share the same picture, the same crosshair, the same range and wind vector, the same ballistic solution, and the same time of flight readout pulsing in the corner.
My own optic offers a tight, slightly grainy pipe of video, every shift of his scope syncing with mine and keeping us aligned without a single word.
His rifle is an Accuracy International AXMC chambered in .338 Lapua, fitted with a Schmidt and Bender 5-25 scope on a ballistic dial, a quick detach suppressor, and a match-grade chassis. The mount is zeroed at two hundred meters.
Ennio’s cheek is welded to the stock, his gloved finger barely touching the trigger.
The visor overlays wind correction and a micro-adjustment matrix.
He nudges the numbers into place with small, precise movements, breathing in that slow rhythm only the best snipers ever master.
Through the HUD I catch the slight nod he gives me, and a soft confirmation murmurs in my ear.
A white van pulls into the loading bay beneath us and backs up. Four bundled men are dragged out one by one, heads covered in black cloth, bodies rigid with fear. Omega males, all of them captives.
The thugs move with a surprising efficiency that makes it clear this isn’t their first rodeo. They cuff the omegas and shove them into Building C through the first floor door, past the glassed second floor with its obvious sightlines.
They take them up the internal stairs to the room on the right. One alpha stays with the captives, another waits across the narrow hall in the left room. A third goes back to the car and drives away. The last one keeps watch at the first floor entrance below.
I lift my binoculars over my mask as Ennio’s scope feed hangs on the edge of my vision.
Through the glass I catch the alpha in the right room forcing one omega onto the bed and ripping his pants down.
The kid thrashes, kicking blindly. The alpha drives a fist into his face.
The movement is fast and brutal. My hand twitches.
Ennio reports in my ear without any heat. "Not our people. Hired help." I watch the rifle steady. The moment tightens. Then he whispers, "Now."
I move before the thought finishes forming. I drop from the roof and hit the fire stairs two at a time. My vest rides comfortably against me, Level III A plates with trauma cuts absorbing each impact. I cut through the alley, slip along the service corridor, and come up behind Building C.
Ennio stays on the rooftop, watching both me and the targets through his visor and his scope, the link still keeping us perfectly in sync.
I clear the corner just enough to peek. The guard at the first floor entrance stands relaxed and unaware.
Ennio squeezes the trigger once. The suppressed crack is dry and sharp.
The round catches the man high in the chest below the collarbone, dropping him without a sound.
On my feed the muzzle flash is a faint spark.
Ennio cycles the bolt and swings to the left room.
A half second later the alpha inside collapses like someone has had his strings cut, the round punching clean through his plate. Everything inside freezes. A half beat. Enough.
The would-be rapist shoves the omega aside and bolts for the door, panic vibrating through his movements.
I see a brief glimpse of a smoky black veil crossing my vision, but I don't stop.
He fires the instant he spots me in the hall.
The pistol cracks, the round slamming into my vest at sternum level and knocking me back a step.
The plate takes it, though pain blooms across my chest and shoulder, sharp and disorienting but manageable.
The vest buys me the moment I need. I close the distance in two quick strides.
He tries to lift the pistol again, but I rotate under the muzzle, strike his wrist, lever the arm down and across, and use his own momentum to pivot him. My hand locks on the back of his neck and I wrench. The vertebrae give way under my grip. It is over in less than two breaths.
I clear his weapon, drop the empty frame, and step into the right room. The four omegas tremble, hoods still clinging to their faces, soaked with the smell of sweat and fear. When I pull the cloth away, their faces are pale, their eyes red, and they’re shaking from shock.
I keep my hands visible, my voice low, almost soft. "You’re safe now. You’re out. We’re not them. Stand up slowly. Come with me."
They stare at me and say nothing. Maybe it’s because I still have my mask on.
"We have to move now."
Still nothing.
"The fourth guy could be back any minute."
That finally gets them moving. But the one who was hit by the alpha is in bad shape, curled up on the bed, barely holding himself together, shaking.
"Hey," I say, kneeling next to him. The kid has long dark hair, his lips swollen from the blow, blood smeared on his chin. "I’m here to help you, to get you out. I promise you, from now on nothing bad will happen. Please, come with me."
His dark eyes stare back at me, wet and glassy.
"It’s okay, I promise." I whisper, and reach out my hand.
Finally, his thin fingers twitch and he grabs my palm.
I help him to his feet and support him as we leave the room.
I keep scanning left, right, corners, vents. The hallway stays clear.
Before I can get the omegas down the stairs, shaky and slow as they are, Ennio is off the roof and at the car, engine running, lights off.
He’s already made the call while I was moving, a short message to an anonymous contact in the local force, whom he only calls ‘A’. When I reach the car, he simply says, "Contact is in. Coastar Park, Rose Alley. Drop them there and leave. No names given."
We have maybe a minute before anyone realizes three of their men are dead and the captives are gone. I load the omegas into the back seat and fasten belts where I can. They still look terrified, probably thinking they’ve just gone from one hell to another.
I take the front seat. Ennio gives a small gesture with his fingers.
We roll out, gravel crunches under the tires as the car pull away. City lights drift past like reflections on water. The omegas breathe in a shallow, hoarse rhythm behind me.
We don’t talk. We get people out and then we disappear.
It’s been like that for years. Not a single omega in Ferro’s brothels is a captive.
Every one of them is a volunteer. Ennio makes damn sure of that, and I help him however I can, no matter how hard or risky it gets.
If I can save even one person from being sexually abused, I will.
Our ops have been going on since I was eighteen and completely miserable.
They gave me purpose, they keep me moving, they help me get through each day.
If not for them, I wouldn’t be here, that’s clear.
Ennio always makes sure I have a job, whether it’s stopping Rocco’s operations, or the Russians, or the gangs involved in human trafficking.
My weird ability to sense danger has saved our asses more times than I can count. The black, smoky veils I see show up whenever there’s an immediate threat to my life, and I’ve learned how to dodge it, read it right, and work with it.
Now that the adrenaline is dropping, I can finally breathe.
The city folds around us, swallowing our taillights. In the back seat the omegas stay silent, still unsure, hesitant to believe they’re free. But they are.
Ennio glances at me, the small lift of an eyebrow saying a silent ‘good job’.
The operation is done.
◆◆◆
When everything is finally taken care of, Ennio and I sit in the car for a moment while I stare blankly through the windshield as the thrill drains out of me.
"How’s Sun doing?" I ask, feeling a kind of resistance to even bringing it up, because my dear youngest brother got himself tangled up with the mafia completely on his own and in the most stupid way. I feel irritated that all of this now rests on my conscience somehow, since I know he’s in danger while no one else in my family has any idea.
"Not that good, mentally he’s been overwhelmed for a long time, you know how messed up Anzo is," Ennio pulls out his ever-present vape and takes a drag.
"But I’m absolutely sure Anzo has no plans to get rid of him, not as long as he wants to test those weird ideas he carries in his head.
" His voice sounds like talking about it bores him, but it’s just exhaustion.
"I’m a little worried my dad will find out about all of this, and I want to protect him from stressing over the stupid things Sun does."
"Relax, your own seer brother, Snow, said it’ll resolve itself in a few days."
"Right. He did." I wince.
Ennio bites his lip, looking unusually hesitant for him, clearly unsure whether he should even say this.
"Remember Moon’s brother, the one who took his place at Anzo’s side?"
"Yeah, Summer. He’s a sorcerer, right?"
Ennio taps his fingers on the steering wheel in a steady rhythm.
"What about him?" I press.
"That guy is basically a walking nuke. Moon told me something he refused to tell Anzo. Summer is insanely powerful. If he wanted to, he could wipe Anzo’s entire fortress off the face of the earth. Probably the whole city too. Without even breaking a sweat."
I whistle under my breath.
Wiping out the entire city?
A strange shiver runs down my spine.
"Damn… how did Anzo even manage to keep him there?"
"Blackmail. On top of that, Anzo is quite ignorant of what the power actually is. He only has a vague concept."