Chapter 5 – Thiago
Five
Thiago
The locker room hums with overlapping voices, the clank of metal, and the steady drip of water hitting tile. Everyone moves through the familiar routine of stripping off gear, showering, and getting the hell out after a long shift.
I sit on the bench and drag a towel over my head, scrubbing the last of the water from my hair.
The shower did little to burn through the adrenaline still buzzing beneath my skin.
Today was my first day in the field with the Ninth, and we got thrown straight into it.
A couple of low-level dealers had taken a family hostage after a deal went sideways.
By the time we breached the house, they were shooting.
We returned fire, cleared the rooms, and got everyone out alive.
I’d say that’s a pretty damn good way to introduce myself to the team.
But Philadelphia still feels different from Houston, and it isn’t the crew or even the work. I’ve spent the last five years following orders without question, moving from one assignment to the next without giving much thought to the people behind the files once the job was done.
Remi is already proving harder to dismiss.
It’s been a week since I met her, and I can still picture her standing on the side of that highway with a gun aimed at my chest, completely prepared to use it.
Maybe it’s curiosity or the fact that nothing about our first meeting went the way I expected.
Whatever it is, I’ve thought about her more times than the assignment requires.
I drop the towel around my neck and reach for my shirt, smiling when I remember the look she gave me.
Apparently, having a gun pointed at me is memorable when Remi Cain is the one holding it.
A locker slams a few feet away, dragging my attention across the room.
“Hell of a first day, Braga.”
Ryan, one of the guys from my unit, leans against the lockers across from me.
“Not bad,” I reply, tugging my shirt down.
“Not bad?” He scoffs. “You cleared that building like you’ve been running with us for years.”
I shrug. “Got lucky.”
“Yeah,” he says, not buying it. “We’ll go with that.”
Pushing off the locker, he grabs his bag. “A couple of us are heading out for drinks. Nothing crazy, just down the street.” He jerks his chin toward the door. “You should come. First round’s on me.”
I consider the offer for a second. On any other night, I might have taken him up on it, but I’ve already put off meeting with the commander longer than I should. She expected me days ago.
“Appreciate it,” I say, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “But I’ve still got some things to take care of at the new place. Rain check?”
Ryan gives me a long look before nodding. “Yeah, I get it. New city and all. But next time, offer stands.” He starts toward the door, then glances back. “Don’t be a stranger, Braga. We’re not just a team out here, man. We’re brothers.”
With one last nod, Ryan heads out, his voice fading as he calls to the rest of the guys. The room empties gradually until the conversations and slamming lockers fade enough for me to hear the faint buzz coming from inside my bag.
I pull out my phone.
There’s no name or number attached to the message, but there never is.
This one contains a single instruction to report.
Only this time, I won’t be reporting to some off-site Helios location.
Elena’s office is a floor above me, hidden in plain sight within the same department where everyone knows her only as Commander Duvall.
I grab my bag and leave the locker room, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. When I reach her floor, most of the offices are dark, and the halls are nearly empty. Her door sits at the end of the hall, a small plaque bearing her name and title beside it.
After the way she introduced herself, I wouldn’t put it past her to have another test waiting for me on the other side.
I knock twice.
“Come in.”
Elena’s standing behind her desk with an open file in front of her when I enter. She doesn’t acknowledge me right away and continues reading as I close the door. After a few seconds, she turns another page, and I start to wonder if she enjoys making people wait.
“You’re late, Operative.”
“Had to establish a routine. You know how that goes.”
“You had seventy-two hours,” she says, finally looking at me.
“I used them.”
“And?”
“I made contact.”
“I take it that went well,” she says, her voice even, “considering you’re standing here, and as far as I know, Cain is still alive.”
I’m not sure what the hell she expected to happen.
“Of course she is.”
Elena studies me for a moment before rounding the desk and taking her seat.
“Of course. But—”
“Listen,” I cut in. “If you want this intel, I need time. She’s not going to hand me a damn thing just because I ask. I need to gain her trust and get close enough that she stops questioning why I’m there. This isn’t a matter of days.”
Most of my jobs have been simple. Get in, acquire what I need, sanitize the rest, and move on.
This assignment requires me to stay.
I knew the Cain history before I ever set foot in Philadelphia. Meeting Remi only confirmed that none of it is exaggerated. She put a gun to my chest without so much as a tremor in her hand, and if she’s any indication of the people who raised her, rushing this would be fucking suicide.
“Weeks?” Elena asks.
“At least.”
Her expression tightens.
“You gave me a family of trained assassins with decades of blood behind them. They've killed some of the most dangerous people in the world and survived plenty who came after them in return. Whatever they know, they’re not going to share it with someone they met five minutes ago. Remi sure as hell won’t. ”
“Fine.” Elena leans back in her chair and lets out a long breath, as though giving me what I need is already an inconvenience.
I bite back a response. Whether she likes it or not, I’ve made my point, and arguing with this woman isn’t going to get me anywhere.
“You’ll have your time, Operative. Until you don’t.
” She plants her palms on the desk and rises.
“But don’t let retirement and family dinners make you forget who these people are.
The Cains have left bodies across continents.
Some of them might have deserved exactly what they got, but that doesn’t change what they’re capable of. ”
“I read the files.”
“Then you know I’m not sending you after regular civilians.” Her eyes hold mine. “Find the Ledger. Find out who still has access to it and what they intend to do with it.”
The Ledger is the entire reason I’m here.
According to Elena’s intel, it’s a record compiled over decades, containing names, operations, and secrets powerful people have gone to great lengths to keep buried.
Helios believes someone in the Cain family either has it or knows where it’s hidden.
My job is to figure out who before any of that information falls into the wrong hands.
“And if someone in that family becomes an active threat?” I ask.
“You neutralize them.”
I watch her for a moment, making sure there’s no room to misinterpret what she means.
“And if they don’t?”
“Then you bring me the Ledger, and no one has to die.”
Sloane’s Gun & Tactical stays open late on Friday nights.
From what I know, Remi co-owns the place with her cousin, Valentina Cain, daughter of Derek Cain, Remi’s uncle and one of the most formidable names in their family.
She’s out of the country for now. She also rotates shifts with a small staff, so I have a decent chance of finding her here tonight.
I got off work later than expected and didn’t have time to confirm whether she’d be here, so I’m taking a shot.
If she isn’t, I’ll have to try again another night.
I tell myself that’s the only reason I’m hoping she is.
I admit, I want to see her in person again.
She’s beautiful. That’s all there is to it.
The lobby is quiet, with a few customers browsing merchandise while others sign waivers and check in.
A young guy I don’t recognize stands behind the counter, but Remi is nowhere in sight.
So I pay for a lane instead of asking for her.
If she is working tonight, I’d rather cross paths naturally than walk in asking for the woman who told me never to come back.
A few minutes later, I’m geared up and standing in a stall. I line up my shot downrange and squeeze the trigger, firing until the magazine runs dry.
“Thiago?”
I recognize Ryan’s voice.
“T, what are you doing here? Thought you said you were patching up some drywall at your place.”
Another night, another one of his invitations blew off, and now I’m standing ten feet away from the guy I lied to about why.
Of all the places in the city, I didn’t expect to run into him here, especially when the precinct has its own range.
Then the woman beside him loops her arm through his, and I understand why he came.
“I was,” I shout over the gunfire. “Messed some things up and needed to decompress.”
“Feel that.” He nudges his date. “This is my girl, Natalie, and that’s her sister, Desiree, over there, the one completely missing the target.”
I give them a polite smile while already trying to figure out how quickly I can get out of here. With Ryan around, finding an excuse to run into Remi just got a hell of a lot harder.
“You wanna hang with us, T?” He motions over his shoulder at Desiree. “She could use a good instructor.”
I’m about to turn him down when I notice the way she’s holding the gun. Her grip is loose, her finger is on the trigger, and her stance leaves her fighting the recoil instead of controlling it.
“Ryan—”
The gun jerks in her hands, and a shot cracks overhead. The bullet pierces the ceiling, sending debris raining down as everyone on the range turns toward her.
“Desiree, put it down,” Ryan orders.
She freezes with the gun still in her hand.
I cautiously move toward her. “Take your finger off the trigger.”
“I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what—”
“Don’t move.” I reach for the weapon, but she turns in my direction before I can take it. The gun fires, and heat tears across my upper arm.
Fuck, she actually shot me.
I clamp a hand over the wound as the door flies open and slams against the wall. Remi storms in, takes in the scene, and closes the distance in seconds. She grabs Desiree’s wrist, strips the gun from her hand, and forces her to the ground before aiming the weapon at her.
“Stay down.”
“Wait! It was an accident,” Ryan cuts in, stepping forward.
“Then don’t fucking move.”
He stops.
Remi turns toward me, instantly noticing the blood slipping between my fingers.
“Thiago? What the fuck is going on? Are you shot?”
“I am. But it’s mostly a graze.”
“She fucking shot you?”
“It was an accident,” I tell her. “A reckless one, but an accident.”
Remi glances at Desiree, who’s now crying and still shaking on the floor.
“She put two rounds where they had no business going. One into my ceiling and one into your arm.”
“I’m aware.”
Her expression hardens. “Clearly not enough if you’re defending her.”
“I’m not defending her. I’m telling you she isn’t a threat.”
Remi holds the weapon on Desiree for another second before lowering it. She ejects the magazine, clears the chamber, and hands both off to one of her staff.
“Callahan, take care of this. Everyone out. Give them refunds or vouchers, I don’t care. Just make sure the place is clear in fifteen.” She looks down at Desiree. “And you, don’t ever come back here.”
The room fills with low voices and hurried movement as people pack up their things and head for the exit. Callahan takes over with Desiree while Ryan stays close, trying to calm her down.
Whatever plan I had for tonight went to shit the second that first round hit the ceiling. I came here hoping to cross paths with Remi without giving her a reason to question why I was around. Getting shot wasn’t exactly how I pictured it happening.
“Thiago,” she calls from behind me.
I turn around to find her waiting near the door.
“Come with me.”