Kai exhaled, shoulders slumping.“We figured we’d either die in the woods or be set up and arrested the second we touched home soil.I wasn’t dragging my wholeohanainto that.Not then.”
Niko swore under his breath, but Luca finally nodded, tight-lipped.“Fair.I’d have made the same call.Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
A stunned silence followed, broken by Ricky’s sharp intake of breath.“That was you?”
Kai’s voice cracked, but he pushed through.“I saw you go down, Hogan.I was there.I thought I’d lost you.And later, I came to the hospital.”He swallowed hard, forcing his gaze toward Hogan.“I wanted to stay.But I knew if anyone saw me, they’d start digging, and if they dug, they’d find ways to hurt you.So, I walked away.And it damn near killed me to do it.”
The air shifted.Fury gave way to something else—respect, disbelief, grudging acknowledgment.Ty rubbed a hand over his face.Oren let out a slow breath.Even Marsh stopped glaring.
Kai looked to Hogan, waiting for the verdict, hoping for something in his expression to hold on to.He needed him to be the anchor now, to steady the storm in the room.
Dale’s scowl faltered, and he muttered, “Shit.You did that for him?”
“Yeah,” Kai admitted softly.“I did.”
The anger in the room ebbed.Black Tide exchanged glances.Luca gave a sharp nod.“That takes something,” he said simply.
Surge folded his arms.“He’s telling the truth.I was with him.”
Dale threw his hands into the air in surrender.“That wasn’t an accusation, brother.That was awe.”
The weight of Kai’s confession pressed heavy, and he braced for the backlash.Hogan spoke before anyone else could.“You heard him.He put his life on the line for us before.He walked away to protect me.That’s more than most men would’ve done.”He closed his eyes on an exhale for a moment then opened them, and Kai shivered at the intensity of emotion he couldn’t name that shone there.“I hate that you had to do that, and I am so fucking sorry that happened, that you felt like letting me go was what was best, because, Rip, from now on, there is no action, reaction or fucking outcome where that is acceptable.”
Kai swallowed hard and nodded.
Bateman’s voice was level.“So where does that leave us?”
Kai straightened.“It leaves us with a target.The Bratya have a trafficking hub here on island.Kids.Families.They think they can operate in the open.If we hit it, we cut off one of their heads.”
Dev leaned over the map, eyes narrowing.“Recon first.We don’t rush in blind.”
“Agreed,” Surge said.“We map it, find the weak points, then strike.”
Hogan’s voice cut in, low and certain.“And we don’t forget we’ve still got the DEA bastard who sold us out.He’s not a ghost—we’ll find him.”
Marsh’s mouth curved darkly.“I want him alive long enough to know exactly who he betrayed.”
Luca’s tone was sharp.“Guy thought he could play both sides.I want to see his face when it all caves in.”
Bateman’s jaw flexed, his stare hard as stone.“I’ll be there when we get him.He tried to take my team from me once.I’ll make sure he understands what that costs.”
A heavy silence followed, not uncertainty but grim agreement, the kind of promise that only men who had already bled together could make.
Kai watched the pieces fall into place.Fury still lingered, but it had sharpened into purpose.Hogan’s nod met his across the room, a silent vow that saidI’ve got you, and I’m not going anywhere.
****
The man sat in thedarkened room of his home office, the glow from his computer screen illuminating a smile that never reached his eyes.He had chosen not to be near the fire the night before, not directly—men like him didn’t risk smoke and ash on their suits.But he watched from a distance, satisfied, while the Black Tide compound burned on Hawaiian soil.He was so damn good at moving pieces around the chessboard, it was almost sinful.The Bratya would think they were in control.Let them.
He tapped a message, encrypted and sent halfway across the world before arriving with Sergei Antonov.A simple update, sharp and goading.Everything is proceeding.Man up, get your house ready, because the fight is coming.
He leaned back against the leather of his office chair, arrogance dripping from every breath.The beauty of the plan was its simplicity.Let them crash into each other.The Bratya were brutal, the Pathfinders and their new island friends were relentless.It would be a bloodbath.Men would die on both sides.And when the smoke cleared, whoever staggered to their feet—Pathfinder, Black Tide, mercenary, or Bratya—he would recruit them.Mold them.Turn them into something new.
My own army, he thought, adjusting his cufflinks.Not for country.Not for justice.For profit.
If Bateman died—and the man almost savored the possibility—then Obsidian Ridge would need a leader.Those men were fierce, but too loyal, too tied to the past.They weren’t built to think for themselves.They would need someone ruthless enough to keep them pointed at the right targets.Someone like him.
He could already picture it.Expanding his program.Selling their skills to the highest bidder.Billions to be made in blood and fire.If some of them died along the way?Collateral damage.The kind the world never missed.
