Page 57 of Rebel

The warehouse had gone quiet except for the methodical sound of our team checking bodies and securing rooms.I approached the safe, examining it while Alexei covered me.

“Electronic lock,” I noted.“Beyond my skill set.”

Alexei pulled a small device from his tactical vest and attached it to the keypad.“Step back.”

I didn’t need to be told twice.I moved behind a pillar as the device hummed to life.A soft beep, then a click as the safe door swung open.

Inside were stacks of cash, several thumb drives, and a leather-bound ledger.

“Jackpot,” I murmured, collecting the items and stuffing them into my backpack.

“Team Two secure,” I reported into my comm.“Primary target eliminated, secondary objective acquired.”

The responses came in rapid succession:

“Team One secure.”

“Team Three secure.”

“Team Four engaged.Five minutes to completion.”

I checked my watch.Twelve minutes since we’d breached the warehouse.Efficient.

Alexei surveyed the carnage with clinical detachment.“Cleanup?”

I nodded toward the center of the warehouse floor where gallons of accelerant were being positioned by our teammates.“Fire solves many problems.”

He nodded, apparently satisfied with the solution.

We worked quickly, gathering our wounded -- just the one Russian with a leg wound, thankfully -- and confirming each Moretti soldier was dead.No survivors, as ordered.The intel we’d recovered went into a secure bag that Alexei handed to one of his men.

“Your club President will want copies,” he said.It wasn’t a question.

“Only seems fair to receive shared intelligence,” I reminded him.

A thin smile crossed his face.“Of course.Dmitri will honor the request.”

I didn’t completely believe him, but now wasn’t the time to press the issue.We had minutes before the fire would draw attention, and we needed to be gone.

“Move out,” I ordered our team, helping support the wounded Russian as we headed toward the loading dock.

Behind us, flames began to lick at the processing tables, consuming evidence and bodies alike.By the time emergency services arrived, there would be nothing left but ash.

Outside, the night air felt clean compared to the gunpowder-thick atmosphere of the warehouse.I inhaled deeply, feeling the familiar post-battle surge of adrenaline beginning to ebb.

“Good work,” Alexei said as we reached our bikes.

Coming from him, it felt like high praise.I nodded once, then tapped my comm.“Team Two heading out.Rendezvous at point Alpha in twenty.”

As we rode away, I glanced back once at the warehouse.Orange light glowed from inside, the fire growing hungry.Smoke billowed from broken windows, carrying with it the message we’d come to deliver:

This was what happened when you crossed the Devil’s Boneyard and the Bratva.

And it was just the beginning.

Point Alpha was the abandoned barn ten miles outside of town.It had been decided we’d rendezvous there on the off chance we were followed.No sense having a tail back to the compound.

We arrived to find Havoc’s team already there, their faces grim but satisfied in the harsh glow of tactical flashlights.Blood spattered across their cuts told its own story.

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