Page 80 of Knuckles & Knives
“Until now,” he agrees. “Though I want you to understand, this isn’t personal. It’s simply business. You and your… collection of lovers have become too dangerous to ignore.”
The casual way he dismisses the men who mean everything to me sends rage burning through my chest, but I keep my voice level. “What do you want?”
“Justice. Your father destroyed my brother, ruined my family’s reputation, cost us millions in territory and revenue. I want you to experience exactly what he put us through.”
“Which is?”
“Watching everything you care about burn while you’re powerless to stop it.” Richard’s voice carries satisfied malice. “Seven locations, seven chances to save innocent lives. But here’s the interesting part—you can’t save them all. Even if you split up, even if you move with perfect coordination, you don’t have the resources to protect every location simultaneously.”
The cruel elegance of his strategy infuriates me. He’s not just trying to kill us—he’s trying to break us first, to force us to choose which innocent people live and which ones die.
“So you’re going to murder civilians to make a point about my father,” I say.
“I’m going to murder civilians to make a point about consequences. Every action has a price, Raven. Your father never learned that lesson. Perhaps you will.”
“And if we come to you directly? Face to face, winner takes all?”
Richard’s laughter is cold and amused. “Oh, my dear girl. This isn’t a duel from some romantic novel. This is war, and in war, victory goes to whoever is willing to pay the highest price in blood.”
The line goes dead, leaving us in silence that feels heavy with impending violence.
“He’s not bluffing,” Dom says. “The teams at civilian locations are real, the weapons are real, and he’s absolutely willing to kill innocent people to hurt us.”
“Agreed,” Kieran adds. “This is maximum psychological pressure designed to force us into tactical errors.”
“So what’s our play?” Axel asks, his wild energy focused into deadly calm.
I look around at the four men who’ve chosen to stand with me, seeing my own determination reflected in their faces. We’re outnumbered, outgunned, and fighting on ground our enemy chose. But we’re not defeated, and we’re definitely not surrendering.
“We adapt,” I say simply. “Richard thinks he’s forcing us to choose between tactical advantage and protecting innocents. He expects us to react and to play by his rules. We won’t. We’re going to do what he can’t predict. Evacuate the civilians and hit him where it hurts.”
“Simultaneously?” Kieran asks.
“Yes. Marcus, can you coordinate evacuations in real time?”
“Twenty minutes,” he replies. “And some… very illegal access.”
“Do whatever you have to do. Dom, how many people do we have who can handle tactical evacuations under fire?”
“Not enough for seven locations,” he admits, “but maybe enough if we coordinate with some of the neutral organizations who owe us favors.”
“Axel, how much chaos can you create as a distraction while evacuations are happening?”
His grin is wild and dangerous. “Enough to keep their attention off the real operations.”
“Kieran, how quickly can we mobilize a direct assault on Sterling’s compound while his forces are spread across the city?”
“Fast,” he says, his strategic mind already calculating possibilities. “Very fast if we’re willing to burn every bridge and call in every debt.”
The plan is insane in its scope and desperate in its execution. But it’s also the last thing Richard Sterling will expect. Instead of reacting to his moves, we’re going to force him to react to ours.
“Do it,” I say. “All of it.”
Marcus looks up. “He thinks we’re fractured. Separate organizations sleeping with the same woman.”
“But we’re not,” I say. “We’re a family bound by trust.”
“So we’re really doing this?” Axel asks. “Taking on the entire Sterling syndicate with a plan we’re making up as we go along?”
