Lazarus steps closer. “He’s pushing Tugun harder. Fast-tracking the next move. And our mole says the Syndicate’s started shifting assets off-world.”
I rise, slow, careful not to jostle Sable’s hand in mine. My knuckles crack with tension as I stand to full height.
“They’re pulling out?”
“Not entirely. Just the sensitive bits. Databanks. Personnel with dirt. Quiet relocation. They’re spooked.”
“Good,” I say. The word lands heavy. Like steel dropped on concrete. “Means they know we’re close.”
Lazarus nods. “But Tugun’s still here. Otto’s got him sniffing for weaknesses. And your stunt at the warehouse proved they’re not underestimating her anymore.”
“She’s not the one who should be worried.”
He studies me for a beat. Then sighs. “You want payback.”
I meet his gaze. “I want finality.”
He shifts his weight. “We’ve got protocols?—”
“I want a clean hit.”
Lazarus stops. His face goes still.
“No more bait. No more dance. We end this. On our terms. One strike. Fast. Loud. Permanent.”
“You’re not cleared for lethal action.”
I step in. Real close.
“I wasn’t asking.”
There’s a flicker in his eyes. Not fear. Recognition.
He exhales, slow. “You go off-book, and I can’t cover you.”
“Wouldn’t ask you to.”
He looks over at Sable, then back at me. “She’s the reason you’re this wound up.”
“She’s the reason I’m still here.”
For a long second, it’s silent between us.
Then Lazarus reaches into his jacket, pulls out a datachip. Tosses it to me.
“Coordinates. Small station outside Kirellan orbit. Syndicate-run front. Minimal personnel. Big tech transfers scheduled for the next forty-eight.”
I catch the chip and glance at it. “What’s on-site?”
“Some suits. Some muscle. Data core with banking intel. Encryption keys.”
“Explosive?”
Lazarus shrugs. “Depends how loud you want it.”
I smirk. Grim. Cold.
“Oh, I want it loud.”
