Page 56 of A Ballad of Blackbirds and Betrayal

Understanding dawned in Atticus’s eyes.“Hold him,” he instructed Sabrina, handing her his sidearm.

She took the weapon with an ease that spoke of her military training, keeping it trained on Mitchell as Atticus examined the watch more closely.

“Ah,” Atticus said after a moment, finding a nearly invisible sensor on the watch’s side.“Fingerprint scanner, just as you thought.”

Mitchell lunged for the door suddenly, but Sabrina blocked his path, the weapon unwavering in her grip.“I wouldn’t,” she advised calmly.“I served two tours as a combat surgeon.I know exactly where to shoot to cause maximum pain with minimum risk of death.”

“Four minutes,” came Eden’s voice through the comms.

Atticus moved with cold purpose, grabbing Mitchell’s hand and forcing his thumb against the scanner despite the senator’s resistance.The watch emitted a soft beep, and a small display flashed green.

“Cal, we’re in.Transmitting the interface access now.”

“Getting it,” Cal confirmed.“It’s a standard military detonation protocol—multiple redundancies, but centrally controlled.I can initiate the disarm sequence, but I need the authorization code.It should be visible somewhere in the watch interface.”

Atticus examined the small display, where a series of numbers had appeared.“I’ve got it.Transmitting now.”

“Received.Initiating disarm protocol.”The tension in Cal’s voice was palpable even through the comms.“Sending deactivation signals to all devices…now.”

Seconds ticked by, each one stretching to infinity as they waited for confirmation.

“Device one disarmed,” Jade reported first.

“Device two disarmed,” followed Nate almost immediately.

“Three and four confirmed disarmed,” Eden added.

“Five and six…disarmed,” Max concluded.“We’re clear.All devices neutralized.”

Relief washed through Sabrina, though her weapon remained steady.Atticus’s posture shifted subtly—the immediate threat eliminated, but his focus on Mitchell undiminished.

“It’s over, Warren,” he said.“Your operation, your freedom, your legacy—it’s all gone.”

Mitchell’s face contorted with hatred, his carefully maintained political mask shattered completely.“You have no idea what you’ve done,” he hissed.“The bioweapon program was just one piece of a much larger operation.There are threats coming that you can’t even imagine, threats my research could have protected us against.”

“Save it for your trial,” Atticus replied.“Though I doubt national security will be your primary concern in a supermax prison.”

The door opened behind them, admitting Deputy Director Kessler and two tactical agents, weapons drawn.

“Senator Warren Mitchell,” Kessler announced formally, though her eyes betrayed recognition when they met Mitchell’s.“You’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, illegal weapons development, terrorism, and treason against the United States.Not to mention attempting to bomb a building full of international diplomats.”

Mitchell’s eyes swept the room, calculating even in defeat.“Rebecca,” he said, his voice shifting to a confidential tone that had likely served him well in political negotiations.“You know me.We’ve worked together for years.This is a misunderstanding?—”

“Save it, Senator,” Kessler cut him off.“I’ve reviewed the evidence myself.It’s comprehensive.You’re finished.”

As the FBI agents moved to take Mitchell into custody, the senator made one final, desperate lunge—not toward the door, but toward Atticus, hands outstretched like claws seeking to inflict one last injury.

Atticus sidestepped with the fluid grace of a man who had spent decades in combat, using Mitchell’s momentum against him.The senator crashed into the wall with bone-jarring force, then slumped to the floor, dazed but conscious.

“Eight years,” Atticus said, standing over him.“Eight years I’ve dreamed of killing you for what you did to Jane.But this—” he gestured to the FBI agents securing Mitchell with handcuffs, “—this is better.You’ll live to watch everything you built crumble.Every day in your cell, you’ll remember this moment and know that I won.”

Mitchell glared up at him, blood trickling from his split lip.“This isn’t over, Cameron.”

“Yes, Warren,” Atticus replied with calm certainty.“It is.”

The FBI agents hauled Mitchell to his feet, reciting his rights as they led him from the room.Deputy Director Kessler lingered, her gaze meeting Atticus’s.

“You know this will get complicated,” she said.“A senator with his connections?—”

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