Page 69 of Hunter's Game
The advanced systems Alexander had spent decades developing had uses he’d never considered—applications Sarah Mitchell had documented thoroughly before her death, ensuring her trainees would have everything needed to counter his operations.
They made a formidable team, and anyone who tried to stop them would quickly realize they were outmatched.
Because Eden fought for accountability through her technical expertise. Katherine fought for it through Sarah’s training. The Blind Jacks protected people who needed to stay hidden. And together? They were about to completely change the rules of the game.
If they could survive whatever forces Alexander would send after them.
If their loyalty to each other proved stronger than Alexander’s manipulation.
If the truth could prevail against such complex deception.
Big challenges, for sure.
But Sarah Mitchell and those she trained had always been good at achieving the seemingly impossible. Especially with help from allies who weren’t afraid of dangerous situations.
Time to prove it.
Their plan took final shape as they prepared for the next phase. Whatever happened next would change everything. But this time, they were facing it together.
Different backgrounds. Different skills. Different paths. United by a single purpose: Restore accountability. Expose truth. Protect each other.
Even if it meant bringing down an entire organization.
After all, some teams were simply meant to work together. And some connections ran deeper than any strategic partnership. Time to show Alexander Mitchell exactly what that meant.
The confrontation was about to begin. And this time, they had strategies Alexander never anticipated. Their determination was absolute, and they were ready to face any enemy that tried to stop them.
The thing about criminal organizations is that they don't die quietly. They scream. Eden’s hands moved across keyboards with lethal precision as she tracked simultaneous raids across three continents, each monitor in the Blind Jacks’ command center showing another piece of Romano’s network crumbling.
The blue glow from multiple screens emphasized the sharp angles of her face—high cheekbones inherited from her mother, the determined set of her jaw, and the calculated assessment in her green eyes that constantly processed tactical data.
Despite four days of continuous operations, she maintained perfect posture—her athletic frame balanced in the chair to allow immediate movement if required, shoulders relaxed but ready, fingers moving with the mechanical precision that came from years of specialized training. The air felt charged with anticipation and something darker, like the moment before lightning strikes.
Hunter’s presence behind her was a solid warmth against her back, his breath stirring her hair as he leaned in to study tactical feeds. Even throughthe tension of coordinating international operations, Eden’s body responded to his proximity with traitorous heat—a response that still surprised her after months of partnership. For years, she’d maintained perfect emotional control during operations, viewing physical attraction as a tactical vulnerability rather than an asset. Yet with Hunter, that connection had evolved into something that enhanced their operational effectiveness, his combat awareness complementing her tactical planning, his protective instincts balancing her calculated risks.
The development of trust between them had progressed from professional respect to something far more complex—something that allowed her to acknowledge his proximity without compromising mission focus, to recognize the acceleration in her pulse when his fingers brushed her shoulder without losing tactical awareness. It created a dangerous but effective balance that had saved their lives multiple times during operations.
Now wasn’t the time for the kind of distraction he specialized in, but her pulse quickened anyway when his hand settled on her shoulder.
“Dubai team is in position,” Katherine reported from her own bank of screens, her fingers dancing across keyboards as she coordinated with international law enforcement. Unlike Eden’s combat-ready posture, Katherine maintained the poised efficiency of a long-term intelligence operative—back perfectly straight, dark hairsecured in an efficient bun that emphasized her analytical features.
Where Eden’s movements carried the barely contained energy of someone accustomed to direct action, Katherine’s precision reflected years of patient intelligence gathering and strategic positioning. The contrast in their operational styles demonstrated exactly why Sarah Mitchell had selected them as complementary assets—Eden’s tactical immediacy balanced by Katherine’s strategic patience. The similarity of their movements—the way they both typed with that same deadly efficiency—was a testament to Sarah’s systematic training methods. Though not biologically related, they shared the same tactical foundations, their complementary specialties creating the perfect operational team Sarah had no doubt envisioned when taking Katherine under her wing as her protégée.
“Waiting for our signal to breach the antiquities warehouse.”
“Berlin’s got eyes on the curator,” Hunter added, his thumb tracing idle patterns on Eden’s neck that made it hard to focus. “Seems our friend Romano had quite the collection stored in museum vaults across Europe.”
“Shanghai team reports successful infiltration,” another voice added—Wilson’s replacement at the FBI, after they’d exposed the previous assistant director’s corruption. “Moving to secure the financial records now.”
Eden absorbed this symphony of coordinated destruction, watching years of careful planning come to fruition. Her mother’s hidden evidence, combined with Katherine’s inside knowledge and federal resources, had given them everything they needed to dismantle generations of corruption.
But something felt wrong. The back of her neck prickled with the same instinct that had kept her alive through years of undercover work.
“It’s too easy,” she murmured, studying patterns in the data scrolling across screens. The green text reflected in her eyes, casting shadows that made her look dangerous in ways that made Hunter’s breath catch. “Romano said his people would come hunting us. Instead, they’re rolling over without a fight.”
“Maybe they know it’s over.” But Hunter’s tone suggested he shared her concern, his body tensing slightly against hers. “Federal teams have their accounts, their properties, their identities...”
“Theirpublicidentities.” Eden’s fingers flew across her keyboard, pulling up deeper layers of data. The familiar scent of gunpowder and leather that clung to Hunter’s clothes mixed with the coffee and electronics smell of the command center grounded her as she chased digital ghosts. “The ones Romano let us find. But mother’s letter mentioned connections that made him look small-time. What if…”
