Page 79 of Knuckles & Knives
“What do you mean?” I ask, though the cold dread in my stomach suggests I already know.
“I mean they’re bringing the war to us. Right now.”
As if summoned by his words, Marcus’s surveillance system erupts in alerts. Multiple screens show armed teams taking positions around the penthouse building, blocking exits and establishing overwatch positions.
“Professional tactical units,” Dom observes, his voice carrying the calm of someone who’s faced overwhelming odds before. “Military-grade equipment, coordinated timing. They’re not here to negotiate.”
“Count?” Axel asks, already moving toward the weapons cache we keep in the bedroom.
“Twelve visible, probably more we can’t see,” Marcus replies, pulling up feeds from cameras throughout the building. “They’ve cut power to the elevators and blocked the main stairwells.”
“Extraction routes?” I ask, my mind automatically shifting into combat mode.
“Limited. They know about the emergency stairs and the roof access. The only way out is through them.”
The tactical situation is grim but not hopeless. We’re trapped in a secure location with limited escape routes, facing professional killers with superior numbers and positioning. But we’re not helpless, and we’re definitely not surrendering.
“There’s something else,” Marcus says, his voice carrying a note of concern that makes all of us look at him sharply. “The leak includes civilian locations we frequent. The coffee shop where Kieran meets contacts. Dom’s gym. Axel’s art gallery. My usual restaurant.” He hesitates. “And the cemetery where you visit your father’s grave.”
Images flash before my eyes. My father’s headstone and the roses I leave each month. Dom helping a teenage boxer at the gym. Kieran sipping espresso with a faux-legit businessman. Axel laughing at abstract paintings. Gone—all vulnerable.
They’re not just locations. They’re pieces of our lives.
The blood drains from my face. “They’re targeting civilians.”
“Worse than that. They’re using civilian locations as bait, hoping to draw us out of secure positions to protect innocent people.”
The strategy is both brilliant and utterly ruthless. By threatening places and people we care about, they’re forcing us to abandon tactical advantages and fight on ground of their choosing.
“How many locations?” I ask.
“Seven confirmed. Probably more they haven’t revealed yet.” Marcus pulls up a city map marked with red indicators. “Each one has a tactical team in position, waiting for us to respond.”
I study the map, my mind racing through possibilities and calculating odds. Seven separate locations, each one a potential trap, each one containing innocent people who might die because of their connection to us.
“This is psychological warfare,” Kieran observes. “They’re trying to force us into emotional decision-making instead of tactical thinking.”
“It’s working,” Dom admits grimly. “Because I can’t just let innocent people die to protect our strategic position.”
“None of us can,” Axel agrees. “Which means we’re playing their game now, on ground they’ve chosen.”
The weight of leadership settles on my shoulders like lead armor. Every decision I make in the next few minutes will determine not just our survival, but the lives of civilians whose only crime was existing in the same spaces we frequent.
“Options?” I ask.
“Limited and all bad,” Marcus replies. “We can stay here and try to fight our way out, but that leaves the civilian locations unprotected. We can split up and try to cover multiple locations, but that puts us at severe tactical disadvantage. Or we can surrender and hope they honor whatever deal they’re planning to offer.”
“They’re not offering deals,” I say with absolute certainty. “This is elimination, not negotiation. The civilian locations are just leverage to make sure we die on their terms instead of ours.”
The secure phone rings again, and Marcus puts it on speaker without being asked.
“Raven Blackwood,” a cultured voice says, and I recognize it immediately as Richard Sterling himself. “How nice to finally speak with Vincent’s little girl directly.”
“Richard,” I reply, my voice steady despite the chaos around us. “You seem to have gone to a lot of trouble to arrange this conversation.”
“Indeed. Though I must say, your father’s lessons in strategic thinking seem to have taken hold. You’ve been remarkably difficult to corner.”
“Until now.”
