Page 15 of Code Name: Hunter
My comms chirp as if on cue. I double-tap the earpiece. “Talk to me, Ash.”
A woman’s voice crackles through: “Approaching target property. Exterior clear. No thermal hits past fifty meters. Package compliant.”
Package. Vivian will hate that.
“Maintain eyes,” I order. “Sweep for remote optics—she flagged a lens earlier. Could be hostile surveillance.”
“Copy.”
I sever the channel and glance back at Fitz. “She’s being watched. Smart money says Wolfe is alive and has subcontractors here already.”
“Then move,” Fitz says. “The quicker you make her feel safer with us than without, the quicker she yields.”
Yield. The word sparks an image: Vivian on her knees, pulse flickering against restraint, mouth parted as if confession lives there. I school my face.
Fitz pushes a black-metal key fob across the table. “Range Rover is downstairs. Gear in the boot. See that she understands the hierarchy before dawn.”
He pivots to leave, then pauses. “Logan. One reminder.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Dominance is leverage, not indulgence. Use it wisely—or she’ll weaponize it before you have a chance to.”
He doesn’t wait for acknowledgment.
Five minutes later I’m threading through Monte Carlo’s midnight arteries, city lights slicing across the bonnet like tracer rounds. Rain spits on the windshield—harbor mist rising to kiss storm clouds. Perfect cover. Ash’s voice feeds me live telemetry: ground-level motion sensors green, heat signatures stable, drone circling above Villa Tenebrae’s north ridge.
I hide the Range Rover in a copse of trees not far from the all-but-hidden drive up to the villa. I kill the engine, grab my field tablet, and jog the rest of the way. Ivy-choked walls rear out of the blackness; wrought-iron gates swing inward.
Inside the forecourt, the packed gravel grinds beneath my boots—sharp and jarring, like splintered glass underfoot—too loud. I cross to the servants’ wing. Ash stands guard, MP5 at low ready.
“Entry secure,” she reports. “But we found this.”
She hands me a micro camera no larger than a beetle, lens cracked by overpressure. “Passive lens, battery drained. Someone’s been watching but pulled the feed thirty minutes ago.”
“That lines up with her departure.” I pocket it. “Where’s Nocturne?”
Ash jerks a thumb to the interior. “Packing. She insisted on doing it herself.”
Of course, she did. “Prep exfil route bravo. We’re mobile in ten.”
I step inside. The quarters smell of dust, metal, and Vivian’s perfume—the mix tilts my senses off axis for a beat, but I recover quickly. I shouldn’t want the scent of her clinging to dust and danger. I shouldn’t need the visual of her sliding a weapon where a lover once kissed. But that’s Vivian—she makes contradictions feel like absolution.
She’s crouched over an open Pelican case on the floor, dark hair spilling like ink over my still-rumpled shirt. She pulls a pair of slim black trousers from it and steps into them like armor. I can see hard drives glinting beside neatly rolled lingerie. She reaches for the nearby SIG and slides it into its holster and straps it on her waistband; the grip kissing the base of her spine. She swivels when I enter, her eyes narrowing—and damn if that spark doesn’t jump straight to my bloodstream.
Control is a live wire—buzzing, lethal, one misstep from searing through everything.
“Took you long enough,” she says, voice cool but threaded with relief she pretends isn’t there.
I close the distance, stopping just inside her orbit. “You’re on my clock now. We leave in eight.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Seven. I work faster under pressure.”
A grin tugs at my mouth. “Prove it. Six.”
She snaps a hard drive case shut and stands, her legs brushing mine. “What exactly am I proving tonight, Hunter? That I can follow orders, or that I can still twist them into knots?”
Heat licks low in my gut; I keep my tone flat. “Both. Starting now, every byte and bullet you own belongs to Cerberus. I’ll inventory later, but for the moment...” I reach, clasp the collar of my shirt still hanging off her shoulder, and tug it into place, punctuating each word with the adjustment. “Button. Up. You are for my eyes only.”
