Chapter Fourteen Amethyst
Two days later, the operations floor is busy. Normal rhythm. Twenty people at terminals. Screens glowing. Voices low. I’m at my workstation. Running logistics on a shipment to Prague. Standard work. Nothing unusual.
Morning briefing. Enzo’s not here. Mateo runs it instead. He goes through assignments. Updates. Timeline adjustments. No one has said anything about finding Rafe’s body in the server room. I wonder if his body has been found or if someone else had wanted him gone. Then someone speaks up.
“Rafe didn’t show yesterday."
Mateo pauses. Looks up from his tablet.
“What?"
“Rafe. He wasn’t here yesterday. Not today either."
Mateo frowns.
“He call in sick?"
“No call."
Silence. People exchange glances. Mateo shrugs.
“Probably took personal time. He’s been pulling long hours."
Nods around the room. Agreement. Rafe does work late. Everyone knows it. Mateo continues the briefing.
Moves on.
But I watch. Lucia is two desks over. She’s not nodding. She’s watching. Thinking. Her eyes narrow slightly. Then she returns to her screen. I catalog it. Lucia notices things. Always has. She doesn’t accept convenient answers.
11:30 AM
I’m in the break room. Coffee. Lucia walks in. Pours herself a cup. Doesn’t look at me. But she speaks.
“Rafe’s not the type to go silent."
I glance up.
“People need breaks."
“Not him."
She takes a sip.
“He’s obsessive. Wouldn’t just disappear without telling someone."
I shrug. “Maybe he finally burned out."
She looks at me then. Direct. Assessing.
“Maybe."
But she doesn’t believe it. I can see it in her eyes.
She leaves. I finish my coffee. Return to my desk.
Run the calculations. Rafe’s been gone forty-eight hours.
People are noticing. Not alarmed yet. But noticing.
I have maybe twenty-four hours. Forty-eight at most. Before they start really looking.
Before questions become investigations. Before Enzo gets involved.
I need to move. Fast. And I need to choose carefully.
2:00 PM
I watch Lucia. She’s at her terminal. Working.
But every so often, she glances around. Watching.
Analyzing. She’s the most dangerous. Not because she’s the best fighter.
Not because she has the most access. Because she sees what others miss.
She questions. She doesn’t let things go.
If anyone’s going to figure out that Rafe didn’t just disappear— It’s her.
Tactical assessment: Lucia has become a liability.
Highest probability of discovery. Highest probability of exposure. I begin tracking her movements.
3:45 PM
I’m at my desk. Running through what I know.
Lucia’s pattern. Established over the past week.
Every evening at six PM, she changes in the locker room.
Running gear. Exits through the side door.
The one that leads to the industrial district.
Same route every time. East through the industrial district.
Past the warehouses. Along the canal. Loop back.
Six kilometers. Takes her forty-five minutes.
She runs alone. Earbuds in. Focused. Predictable. Vulnerable.
I’ve watched the security feeds. Tracked her path. The canal section is isolated. Low foot traffic after six PM. Warehouses mostly empty. No cameras. The perfect kill zone.
5:00 PM
I’m still at my desk. Running scenarios. Lucia’s route is isolated. Warehouses mostly empty. Canal path has no cameras. Blind spot. Perfect blind spot.
Different approach than Rafe. Can’t make this one look like an internal kill.
Too obvious. Two people disappearing from the same organization within days?
That raises flags. This needs to look external.
Random. Street crime. Mugging gone wrong.
Wrong place, wrong time. I can work with that.
Timing: Strike at six-forty PM. Ninety seconds.
Maybe two minutes. Back to the facility by seven PM.
Check in at eight PM. Well within the five-hour window.
Clean. Controlled. Tactical. I close the security feed.
Return to my work. Wait for end of shift.
5:45 PM
I leave the building. Normal departure. Casual.
I nod to the security guard. He nods back.
I walk east. Toward the industrial district.
The sun is low. Orange light bleeding across the sky.
Shadows stretching long. I know the route.
Studied it. Memorized it. There’s a section near the canal.
Narrow path. Concrete walls on one side.
Water on the other. No cameras. No witnesses. That’s where I’ll wait.
6:15 PM
I’m in position. Tucked into a recessed doorway.
Old warehouse. Abandoned. The path is empty.
Quiet. Just the sound of water lapping against concrete.
I check my watch. Fifteen minutes. I breathe.
Slow. Steady. Clinical focus. This isn’t personal.
This is tactical. Necessary. Lucia is a threat to the mission. To my cover. To Kade. She has to go.
I flex my fingers. Feel the weight of the blade in my pocket.
Small. Sharp. Efficient. Not the same one I used on Rafe.
This one’s clean. Untraceable. I’ll take her wallet.
Her phone. Make it look like robbery. Quick stab to the femoral artery.
She’ll bleed out in minutes. I’ll be gone before anyone finds her.
6:28 PM
Footsteps. Rhythmic. Steady. Running pace. I press back into the shadows. Wait.
6:29 PM
She appears. Lucia. A little early on schedule but still workable. Earbuds in. Focused on her pace. Breathing steady. She doesn’t see me. Doesn’t sense me. She’s in the zone. Vulnerable. I wait until she passes.
Three steps.
Four.
No cameras.
No witnesses.
Wind from the canal.
Her earbuds are still in.
No indication she’s sensed me.
Green light.
Then I move. Silent. Fast. She doesn’t hear me until I’m right behind her.
By then it’s too late. My hand clamps over her mouth.
Pulls her back. Off balance. Her eyes go wide.
Shock. Fear. Recognition. In that final second, she knows exactly who I am.
She tries to scream. Can’t. My other hand moves.
Blade out. One motion. Clean. Precise. Inner thigh.
Femoral artery. Deep. She jerks. Tries to fight.
But the blood is already pouring. Hot. Fast. Pulsing with her heartbeat.
I hold her. Keep her mouth covered. She’s weakening. Fast. Her struggles slow.
Thirty seconds. Her legs give out. I lower her to the ground. Controlled. Quiet. Her eyes are still open. Staring. But the light is fading.
Sixty seconds. She’s gone. I check her pulse.
Nothing. I work quickly. Take her wallet.
Her phone. Her watch. Shove them in my pocket.
Make it look like robbery. Random violence.
Wrong place. Wrong time. I wipe the blade.
Pocket it. Stand. Look around. I see no one.
I walk away. Calm. Steady. Normal pace. Just another person heading home.
7:00 PM
I’m back at the facility. In my room. Door locked.
I strip. Shower. Wash away the blood. The evidence.
Burn the clothes later. Dispose of her belongings in three different locations.
Untraceable. I dress. Sit on the edge of the bed.
Check my watch. Fifteen minutes until check-in. I breathe. Slow. Steady.
Two down.
Two to go.
And the timeline is collapsing faster than predicted.
But the window is closing. Rafe’s been gone forty-eight hours.
By tomorrow, they’ll be looking. Really looking.
And now Lucia. Two absences. Two disappearances.
The timeline is compressing. I need to move faster.
But I can’t rush. Can’t make mistakes. Mistakes get you killed.
8:00 PM
I activate the communicator. Wait. Three seconds. He answers.
“Amethyst." His voice is raw. Strained.
But more controlled than last night. Barely.
“Second target down. Made to look like a mugging. Rafe still missing—investigation starting tomorrow."
Silence. Then:
“Are you safe?"
Not asking about the mission. About me.
“For now. Organization is noticing absences. Timeline is tightening."
More silence. I can hear his breathing. Ragged. Desperate.
“Kade—"
“Check in tomorrow." Not a question. A demand.
“Eight PM," I confirm. Pause. “I promise."
The connection cuts. I sit in the dark. Stare at the wall. Feel the weight. Two down. Two to go. But the pressure is building. The window is closing. And I’m running out of time.