Arrival complete.
Containment next.
I step out first, not trying to be gallant, but out of habit.
Heat presses down immediately, heavier now that we’re stationary. I scan the entrance as the driver pops the trunk, eyes moving automatically—corners, overhangs, anyone lingering too long without purpose. The guards at the door are alert but relaxed, weapons slung casually, eyes flicking toward us and then past us.
I reach for the bags before either woman does. It’s not a conscious choice. Muscle memory takes over—efficient andsilent. Kate hesitates, fingers tightening on her strap, then lets go when I take the weight without comment.
“Thank you,” she smiles softly.
Her voice is quieter here, stripped of banter. I nod once and keep moving.
The lobby is cool compared to outside, air conditioning humming loudly enough to be reassuring. I sweep it in seconds—blind spots behind pillars, the positioning of the desk, and the exits that lead deeper into the building. There’s a bar off to the right, empty for now, cameras mounted high, covering most angles but not all.
Nothing ever covers all.
Addison breaks the silence, cheerful as ever. “This place is… nicer than I expected.”
“That’s intentional,” I respond without thinking.
She glances at me. “What is?”
“Comfort discourages panic.”
She studies me for a moment, then grins. “You’re a weird photographer.”
I ignore her pointed remark as the desk clerk checks us in efficiently—passports exchanged and returned, keys slid across polished wood. I listen without appearing to, noting room numbers and floor assignments. I don’t like that Kate’s room is at the end of the hall, but I don’t comment on it.
We take the elevator together. The ride is short and quiet, taking me back to the night we met. I stand angled toward the door, not the mirrors. Kate watches the numbers tick upward, jaw tight again now that the adrenaline of arrival has faded.
When the doors open, I move first, checking the corridor before waving them out. The carpet muffles sound, the lighting is dimmer than I’d prefer. I deliver the bags to their respective doors, setting them down carefully. Addison chatters, thanking me, already talking about showers, food, and sleep.
Kate lingers. “James,” she calls tentatively.
I pause and turn for a second. “Yes?”
Her eyes search my face, looking for something I’m not willing to offer. Whatever she’s about to tell me, I don’t want to hear it, but I still lend her an ear.
“Thanks,” she says instead. “For… everything.”
I incline my head slightly.That’s all?I’m surprised she doesn’t say more, but I appreciate it nonetheless. I step back, creating distance on purpose. “Get some rest, don’t wander, and if you need anything, contact the front desk.”
She nods, a little stiffly.
Addison looks between us, sensing the tension and taking action before it gets too awkward. “See you later,” she waves brightly.
I don’t promise that I will. Once their doors close, the corridor feels quieter. My shoulders ease by a fraction. This is how I’m supposed to be—alone and unobserved. I quickly shove my bags into my room, then quickly head for the stairs, taking them two at a time, already shifting back into motion. There’s no time to waste. Two days isn’t generous; it’s a warning.
Outside, the heat wraps around me again as I step into the street, camera slung across my chest, posture loose. The city waits, restless and watchful, and somewhere in it, Yusuf Aden Barre is breathing borrowed air, but not for long.
Tonight is all about recon and gathering supplies to carry out my mission.
By the time I head back to my room five hours later, I know exactly which bunker Barre is holed up in, and I have exactly what I need to carry out my mission. When the time comes to take him out, I will be ready.
I lie back on my bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the city breathe around me. I don’t close my eyes for long; sleep is a luxury I don’t need yet.
Tomorrow, the real work begins.
