"And we're invited?"
"The Harrison family has always held a seat. Our father abandoned it when he died, and the other Custodians have been happy to leave it empty. But the seat is still ours by right. By blood." Jagger's smile is cold. "We're going to walk into that chamber, take our seat, and announce that the old order is over. The Ministry directors are dead. Project Omega is exposed. And anyone who disagrees can join them."
"You think they'll accept that?"
"They won't have a choice. Song's exposé drops the moment we enter that chamber. Every major news outlet, every government agency, every law enforcement body in the world will receive documentation of their crimes. The Custodians can fight us and watch their empire burn publicly, or they can bend the knee and maintain what little power they have left."
"And if they fight?"
Jagger looks at me. Then at Jace. Then at Asher.
"Then we kill everyone in that room and build something."
The silence stretches. No one argues. No one objects. We've all seen what the Silent does to children. We've all lived with the consequences.
Some things are worth torching the world for.
"Timeline," Jace says, breaking the silence. "Walk us through."
Jagger nods, pulls up a calendar overlay. "Day one. Tomorrow. Marlee and Thiago fly to Dubai, establish surveillance on Oswald's penthouse. Jace and Jonah fly to London, link up with Song's contact. I stay here to coordinate."
"And us?" Asher asks.
"You and Jinx stay in Geneva. Rest. Prepare." Jagger's gaze flicks to me. "Say goodbye to Lily properly, if you need to."
Goodbye. As if there's a chance I won't come back.
"Day two," Jagger continues. "Teams in position. Final reconnaissance. Confirmation of target locations and security patterns. Radio silence unless there's an emergency."
"And day three?"
"Day three, we move. The Board meeting starts at midnight. Coordinated hits, take out the Directors and go from there."
"That's a tight window," Marlee says. "If any of the hits run long, the Board might get word before we're in position."
"Then don't let them run long." Jagger's voice is flat. "Clean kills. No dramatics. Get in, put them down, get out."
"And the evidence?" Thiago asks. "Song's documentation?"
"Queued and ready. The moment we enter the Board chamber, Song triggers the release. Every major outlet will have the files within minutes. By the time the Custodians realize what's happening, the story will be everywhere. Of course the blame will be shifted onto the dead Directors, but we have contingencies if the Custodians don’t comply."
I stare at the schematic of the Board chamber. Ten seats arranged in a semicircle. Ancient stone walls. Torches that have been burning for centuries. The heart of the Silent, exposed and vulnerable for the first time in three hundred years.
"Who's sitting in those seats?" I ask. "Besides us."
Jagger switches to a new file. Photographs appear, one by one.
"Sterling. Old money, mostly legitimate these days. He's stayed out of the Foundry operations, focused on the Silent's financial holdings." The image shows a gray-haired man with sharp eyes and a politician's smile.
"Brooks. Runs the Silent's intelligence network. Eyes and ears everywhere. He knew about Project Omega but kept his hands clean."
"Holloway. Arms dealing. Supplies weapons to both sides of every major conflict. Profitable bastard." A younger man, forties, with a face that belongs on a yacht advertisement.
"Harrington. Media. Controls half the narrative in three continents. He's the reason no one's ever heard of the Silent and anyone that has is dismissed as a conspiracy theorist." Another older man, bland features, the kind of face you forget immediately.
"Rose." Jagger pauses on this one. A younger man, pale eyes, sharp features. Christian Rose. "He took his seat six months ago. Cleaned house when he did. He's not like the others."
"Meaning?"
