“She’s been fighting for me this whole time.”
“She never stopped.” Hellhound’s tone was subdued. “Even after exposing Oblivion, she kept digging. Looking for proof to nail Dresner personally. And looking for you.”
“With this evidence, he’ll have to go into hiding. No more public image. No more untouchable businessman routine. He’ll be a wanted man.”
Good. Let him run. Let him hide. Let him feel what it was like to be hunted.
But underneath the satisfaction, something else stirred. Complicated. Raw.
Maeve had been searching. While I was locked in conditioning protocols, killing on command, my sister had been building a case to destroy the man who’d stolen me.
And I hadn’t even known.
“I need to see her.” The words came out before I’d fully processed them. “After the chip comes out.”
Hellhound and Havoc exchanged a glance.
“I know a surgeon. No questions. Someone who specializes in staying under the radar. I can arrange it.”
“How soon?”
“Three days. Maybe four.”
“I’m not reuniting with my sister while carrying Dresner’s hardware.”
And we’d send the physical chip for forensic analysis. Strengthen the case. Give Maeve one more piece of evidence to bury Dresner with.
“Agreed.” Hellhound nodded. “We’ll make the arrangements.”
Quiet fell. Not uncomfortable. Just... weighted with things unsaid.
Then Hellhound’s phone buzzed.
He pulled it out, read the screen. His expression went icy. Hard.
“What?”
“Dresner. Emergency recall. All active operatives.”
Havoc’s chair scraped back so hard it nearly toppled. “Fuck that.”
Hellhound’s gaze cut to him. Sharp. Warning.
“You think I’m going back?” Havoc’s tone was all edges. Raw fury barely leashed. “You think I’m answering one more goddamn recall? Pretending to kneel while that bastard walks free?”
“Havoc...”
“Don’t.” His palm slammed down on the table. Liquid jumped in mugs. “I’ve had enough. I’m done playing loyal soldier while Dresner slips through our fingers again.”
The anger in his words wasn’t just surface heat. It was years of it. Compressed. Waiting to explode.
“He should be dead. Or rotting in a cell. Or at least, at the very fucking least, stripped of power and thrown to the authorities.”
But Dresner had resources. Contingencies. And men like him didn’t fall easily.
“Instead, he’s out there. Planning his next move. Regrouping. And you want me to show up like a good dog and take orders?”
Hellhound stood slowly. Calm. Steady. “I’m not asking you to come back. I’m going alone.”
