He endangered her. He risked her life to silence Elias.
Or he knew what mattered: whatever Elias brought into that room could not walk out.
But if he didn’t know...
Then I kidnapped the daughter of the most powerful man in the state. I kidnapped the daughter of the man who holds the leash to my entire organization.
I look at the secure phone sitting on the corner of the desk. The black, nondescript device that connects directly to his private line.
It sits there, silent. A plastic brick that can end me.
I could pick it up. I could tell him Iris is safe, that I’ve kept her in the dark to protect his reputation. But the order was 'No Witnesses.' In the Judge’s world, even his own daughter is just another liability who can talk. Admitting I spared her isn't a report; it’s a confession that I chose her over his orders. The second I admit I failed to pull the trigger, I’m no longer his asset. I’m his next target.
He hasn’t called.
The news hasn’t broken. There’s no Missing Persons Bulletin. No manhunt. No call from Varro saying the National Guard is rolling down the highway.
If he knew his daughter was missing, he would have burned the city down by now. He would have called me. He would have activated every asset in his pocket.
He doesn’t know.
Or...
A darker, colder thought slides into my mind.
He sent me to sanitize the room.
Code Black: Clean everything, leave nothing behind.
That’s the protocol for a Bluebird Op. No witnesses. No evidence.
If I’d followed the protocol...
If I hadn’t hesitated when I saw her eyes...
If I had treated her like a “Loose End” instead of a human being...
I’d have killed her.
I’d have put a bullet in her head. Team 6 would have zipped her into a bag. They would have taken her to the incinerator or the acid vats at the port. I never would have checked her ID. I never would have known her name.
I would have killed the Judge’s daughter following the Judge’s orders.
A sudden, toxic spike of adrenaline hits my system. I double over, dry heaving, clutching the edge of the desk until the shards of glass in my palm dig deeper.
I almost killed her.
I came within two seconds of executing the daughter of the man who saved my life.
I stare at the license. At the name that changes everything.
Iris Hale.
This isn’t a kidnapping anymore. This isn’t a tactical error.
This is a catastrophe.
If I let her go... she talks. She tells the police. She describes my face to her father, and he realizes I botched the job. He realizes I left a witness who can connect him to the body.
