“It's the truth.” Ash's voice cut through. “Look, I get why you're pissed. But Luka was right to put protection in place. Someone came after you. Professional-grade. That's not a coincidence.”
I wanted to argue. Wanted to push back against the surveillance and the secrecy and the fact that they'd made decisions about my safety without consulting me.
But the truth was sitting there like a rock in my chest. Someone had come after me. Someone who knew what they were doing. Someone who'd left me alive on purpose.
“Tell me about the guy,” I said finally.
Luka pulled out his phone again. Pulled up a file, then turned the screen so both Ash and I could see it. “The man who attacked you is a ghost. He's been linked to at least six high-profile hits in the past three years. All of them clean. All of them untraceable.”
The screen showed photos. Surveillance footage. Notes typed in Luka's precise handwriting. The guy from the alley was in half of them, always at a distance, always partially obscured.
“He's good,” Ash said, leaning closer to his own screen. “Really good. We've tried running facial recognition, cross-referencing with known operators, checking contract databases. Nothing. He doesn't exist on paper.”
“So what does that mean?” I asked. “Someone hired him, or is he working alone?”
“That's what we're trying to figure out.” Luka set the phone down. “A guy like this doesn't usually move without a contract, but we can't rule out the possibility that he's got his own reasons for coming after you. I've got people digging into both angles. Looking at enemies you've made through Sentinel work, people with grudges, anyone who might see you as a threat. And we're also looking into whether this bastard has any personal connection to you.”
“That's a long list,” Ash said.
“I know.” Luka looked at me. “Which is why this is serious, Troy. This isn't some thug who got paid to rough you up. This is a professional. Patient. Skilled. And willing to kill to get what he wants.”
“But he didn't kill me,” I said. “He had the opportunity. He didn't take it.”
“Because it was a message.” Luka's eyes were hard now. Cold in a way that meant the strategist was fully in control. “Someone wanted you scared. Wanted you to know they could reach you anywhere, anytime. That's how these things start.”
On the screen, Ash's expression had gone grim. “We need to figure out who's behind this before they make another move.”
“Agreed.” Luka turned back to face me. “That's why I need you to be smart about this, Troy. If you feel like anything's off, you call it in.”
“You want me to check in like a fucking child?”
“I want you to stay alive long enough for us to find these people and put them down.” His voice went flat. “This isn't about control. This is about keeping you breathing.”
I looked at Ash. “You agree with this?”
“Yeah, I do.” Ash's eyes were steady. “Look, I know you don't like being watched. I get it. But someone tried to kill you, Troy. That's not what you brush off because it hurts your pride.”
“It's not about pride.”
“Then what is it about?” Ash leaned forward. “Because from where I'm sitting, this looks like you're more pissed about the surveillance than you are worried about the fact that someone wants you dead.”
Was I more pissed about the surveillance? Or was I scared about what it meant that Luka had felt the need to put it in place before I'd even known there was a threat?
Both, probably. Fear and anger all tangled up together until I couldn't tell which was which.
“Just be careful,” Ash said quietly. “Watch your back. Don't go anywhere alone if you can help it.”
“And hope they don't escalate,” Luka added. His voice was flat. “Hope they don't decide that hurting people around you is the best way to get to you.”
The implication sat heavy in the air between us.
“Yeah,” I said finally. “I'll be careful.”
Ash checked his watch off-screen. “I've got to go. Meeting with the attorney in fifteen minutes to prep for tomorrow.” He looked at me. “Don't do anything stupid, yeah?”
“Wouldn't dream of it.”
“Bullshit. But I appreciate the lie.” Ash's expression softened. “Stay alive, Troy. That's an order.”
