Page 51 of A Ballad of Blackbirds and Betrayal

A pause, then Cal’s voice returned, a note of satisfaction evident despite his professional tone.“We’ve traced the video feed.He’s broadcasting from his secure office in Washington DC, just as we thought.But here’s the interesting part—our intelligence shows he’s carrying on with his normal schedule.He has a fundraising dinner tonight and committee hearings tomorrow morning.He’s acting like nothing happened, like his operation wasn’t just dismantled.”

“Of course he is,” Atticus said, his voice hardening with cold fury.“Men like him believe the law doesn’t apply to them.He thinks his position protects him, that he’s untouchable even after we’ve secured the evidence.”

“The arrogance is unbelievable,” Nate muttered.“His buyers are being detained by federal agencies, his bioweapon is neutralized, and he’s attending a black-tie fundraiser?”

“That’s what makes him dangerous,” Sabrina observed.“He truly believes nothing can touch him.”

Something shifted in Atticus’s expression—a predator sensing its quarry after a long hunt.“Redirect our extraction to D.C.,” he ordered, a new intensity hardening his voice.“It’s time Senator Mitchell learned that no one is beyond justice.Not even him.”

“Atticus,” Eden cautioned through comms, “we’ve secured the bioweapon and the evidence connecting Mitchell to its development.The legal case is solid.”

“This isn’t about legal cases,” he replied, the cold determination in his voice sending a shiver down Sabrina’s spine.“This is about Jane.”

“And Anna,” Nate added, understanding evident in his tone.“You need to finish this face-to-face.”

“Yes,” Atticus confirmed simply.

Sabrina studied his profile as they approached the extraction helicopters, noting the rigid set of his jaw, the focused intensity that had returned to his eyes.The mission had succeeded beyond their expectations—bioweapon secured, evidence collected, lives saved—but for Atticus, the most important confrontation still awaited.

Eight years of hunting, of channeling grief into purpose, had led to this moment.Mitchell’s carefully constructed protection had finally crumbled, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

As they boarded the helicopter that would take them to the airfield where Dynamis’s private jet waited, Sabrina felt the weight of what was to come.This wasn’t just the culmination of a mission, but the potential resolution of a personal vendetta that had defined Atticus’s existence since losing Jane.

The question that hung between them, unspoken but undeniable, was what would remain when vengeance was finally satisfied.What would fill the space that pursuit and purpose had occupied for so long?

Atticus’s hand found hers in the dim interior of the helicopter, warm and steady despite the tension thrumming through him.His fingers intertwined with hers, a silent acknowledgment of connection that went beyond professional partnership.

“Ready?”she asked, the question encompassing far more than their immediate mission.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice certain despite the complexity of emotions behind it.“For everything that comes next.”

The helicopter lifted off, rotors slicing through the morning air as they left the demonstration site behind.Below them, emergency vehicles converged on the compound, the remnants of Mitchell’s operation being systematically dismantled by authorities tipped off by Dynamis intelligence.

As the airfield appeared on the horizon, the Texas landscape stretching endlessly beneath them, Sabrina felt something shift inside her chest.One chapter ending, another beginning—for Atticus, for herself, and perhaps for them together, if they chose that path.

Whatever awaited in Washington, she would face it beside him—not as a temporary ally, but as a partner who understood both the professional demands of their work and the personal complexities of the man behind the mission.

His fingers tightened around hers, and when he turned to meet her gaze, she saw something new in his eyes—not just determination or vengeance or even desire, but a future.Uncertain, unplanned, yet somehow as inevitable as dawn after darkness.

“Eight years,” he said, his voice barely audible above the helicopter’s roar.“I’ve lived for one purpose, one moment.”

“And after?”she asked, the question that had haunted them both since that first kiss.

His thumb traced a line across her wrist, the simple touch sending heat spiraling through her despite everything they’d just survived—or perhaps because of it.Life affirming itself in the wake of death.

“That,” he said, his dark eyes never leaving hers, “is what I intend to find out.With you.”

The reckoning was at hand.But for the first time in eight years, Atticus Cameron was looking beyond vengeance to something he’d thought forever lost.

A future.

ChapterFifteen

Washington, DC sparkled beneath them as the Dynamis jet began its descent, the city’s monuments illuminated against the gathering twilight like beacons in the darkness.Sabrina watched Atticus staring out the window, his profile etched in harsh relief against the last burnished rays of sunset.They were finally closing in on Mitchell.

The time since the failed demonstration had been devoted to preparation—building an airtight case, coordinating with trusted contacts in federal agencies, and arming themselves with evidence that would bring down one of the most powerful men in the country.

“He’ll be at the Kennedy Center in exactly ninety minutes,” Cal reported, not looking up from his array of screens.Despite the exhaustion shadowing his eyes, he radiated the focused intensity of someone on the verge of completing a mission eight years in the making.“Diplomatic reception honoring the British Ambassador.Over three hundred guests, including cabinet members, foreign dignitaries, and half the Senate Intelligence Committee.”

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