Saint hums, pleased. “Amen.”
Ash is already typing. “I’ll feed chatter to one of our street lines. Make it look like a rival crew’s about to light up that block. Something Syndicate-adjacent but not Syndicate-owned, so his boys believe it. That’ll spook his detail enough to relocate him.”
“Route?” I ask.
“Best one out is the alley to the side street, then cut past the old print house to avoid main cameras,” Ash says, eyes flicking as he maps. “There’s a blind stretch between two buildings where the council never fixed the CCTV after a scaffolding job. Dead minute and a half if they move fast. Two full minutes if they’re cautious.”
Vale grins. “Two minutes is luxury.”
Saint cracks his neck. “Who’s on the pull?”
“I am,” I say.
I feel three different reactions hit the air. Ash goes still. Saint exhales through his nose, calm, accepting. He saw that coming. Vale’s smile goes slow and hungry. “Of course you are.”
“You’re not going alone,” Ash says at once.
“No,” I say.
“Wraith?” Saint asks.
“Wraith’s not leaving her,” I answer, giving Vale a pointed look.
Vale licks his teeth. “So I’m your partner. Romantic.”
Ash’s eyes flash. “And me.”
“You’ll be running ghost and eyes,” I tell him. “I need you on the feed.”
He bristles. “Caelum.”
“I need you on the feed,” I repeat. “I need you in my ear. I need you to watch for secondary movement. I need you to loop street cams in a one-block radius without flickering so nobody reviewing can see a stitch. I need you to spoof a council van signal in case someone’s looking at plate logs. Vale can rip a man out of a car without slowing his heartbeat. Saint can lock down the lane and kneecap anyone who thinks they’re getting brave. You are more useful on oversight than with your hands on Damien’s throat. I need you where you are strongest. You hearing me?”
His jaw ticks, and I know he hates it. But he also knows I’m right. Ash nods, once. Sharp. “Fine.”
Saint smiles, slow and bright and a little savage. “And me?”
“You’re our door,” I say. “We block, we box, we disappear him. You hold the line and make sure no one chases. You’re good at telling men to stay down.”
Saint inclines his head, almost theatrical. “My specialty.”
Vale claps his hands once, delighted and obviously already ready to cause mischief. “Field trip.”
I look each of them in the eye.
“Ash,” I say. “You spawn the fire. Give Syndicate thirty minutes’ warning they’re about to take heat. Make sure it sounds believable, not apocalyptic. You spook Damien’s crew, not send them into full scramble. Saint, you get us wheels that don’t traceback here. Something disposable, something fast, something that can take a hit if it has to. Mateo, you suit up and get comfortable with the idea that if Damien so much as breathes in the wrong direction, I’m breaking his fingers before you can.”
Vale’s grin widens. “Wouldn’t dream of stealing your fun,cariño.”
“And Rook…” Ash says quietly.
I meet his gaze, knowing exactly what he is asking. “I’m going to put Damien in the ground,” I say. “But first I’m going to hear him scream.”
Saint exhales a soft, “God forgive you,” that sounds nothing like a prayer.
Vale laughs under his breath. “Oh, He won’t.”
Ash’s expression shifts. Not shock. Not fear. Something like relief. Like this is the first time he’s fully breathing since last night. “Good,” he murmurs.
