"Fuck, I thought we got them all. And the Custodian Board?"
"Emergency session. Seventy-two hours from now. They're convening to address 'the Singapore incident' and determine how to respond to the security breach." A cold smile enters his voice. "They don't know we have Song's intel. They don't know we're coming."
"What's the play?"
"We finish this. All of it. The Ministry directors die, and then we walk into that Board meeting and tell the survivors there's a new order." Jagger pauses. "Can you get Jinx on a plane in four hours? We need everyone in Geneva."
I look down at the man sleeping on my chest. The man who killed his tormentor last night and cried in my arms afterward.The man who's finally, for the first time in his life, getting real rest.
"Yeah," I say. "I'll get him there."
"Good. Flight details incoming. And Asher?"
"What?"
"Tell him it's almost over. Tell him we're going to burn it all down and salt the fucking earth."
The line goes dead.
I set the phone aside and lie there, processing. Two more targets. Two more deaths. And then a confrontation with the most powerful shadow organization in the world.
No big D.
Jinx stirs against my chest. His breathing changes, the rhythm shifting from deep sleep to wakefulness. His arm tightens around my stomach.
"Who was that?" His voice is rough with sleep, gravelly and low.
"Jagger. Children are safe. Elliot has everything under control."
"And?"
He knows there's more. Of course he knows. He's spent his whole life reading situations, calculating threats, preparing for the next fight. Even half-asleep, he's sharper than most people fully awake.
"Song delivered. We have names. Abernathy, Oswald, Webb. They all funded Project Omega. They all signed off on what Helena did."
Jinx goes still. His head lifts from my chest, dark eyes finding mine in the gray morning light. The peace is gone from his face, replaced by something colder. Something focused.
"When?"
"Custodian Board meets in seventy-two hours. Jagger wants to hit the Ministry directors simultaneously, then crash the meeting."
"End all of it. Every bastard who had a hand in the Foundry."
"That's the plan."
He's quiet. Then his expression shifts, softens, and he settles back against my chest.
"Four hours?"
"That's what Jagger said."
"Then we have time." His hand slides up my chest, fingers tracing idle patterns on my skin. "I don't want to think about killing for a few hours. I spent all night doing it."
"What do you want to think about?"
"Nothing." He tilts his head up, presses a kiss to the underside of my jaw. "I want to lie here with you and not think about anything. Can we do that?"
"Yeah." I wrap my arms around him, pull him closer. "We can do that."
